The Hands of the Sisters
by mrs.milfoy
Summary: Narcissa and Bellatrix spend their days together as sisters do...for the most part. Incest, later, so be aware. Not to mention general debauched dialog and shenanigans along the way. It gets dark in here, people. Remember lumos? Hear a playlist for this story by visiting the link on my profile! Equal parts NM/DM NM/BL.
1. Incessantly

The Hands of the Sisters

"_Word over all, beautiful as the sky,_

_Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage_

_Must in time be utterly lost,_

_That the hands of the sisters Death and Night_

_Incessantly softly wash again, and ever again,_

_This soil'd world;_

_For my enemy is dead, a man divine as myself is _

_Dead."_

Walt Whitman, from "Reconciliation"

_Incessantly_

I was making coffee when my sister zombied into the kitchen. "Morning," I said softly. She could be…unpredictable in the mornings.

Bella scowled deeply in return and grunted. She lurched to a stop at the end of the counter and pulled her wand. My heart fluttered just a bit, but she only used it to summon a chair. It made an astonishing and morbidly elongated scraping noise as it slid in from the dining room and I shuddered. Finally, Bella dropped into it, looking pouty as ever. She fingered her wand in her lap.

"Cissy?"

"Yes?"

"Will you make me a lovely coffee?"

I sighed. _Seriously? _"Yes, Bella." I whipped my wand from my sleeve and waved it over the French press.

Bella huffed. "I don't mean to put you to any trouble."

_No more trouble than housing the bloody Dark Lord in my guest rooms, listening to him snore like a hell-beast all night, cleaning up after you and the rest of his disgusting, putrid followers, cooking like a fucking house elf for Death Eaters and having my ass grabbed by Snatchers while my useless husband prances about like a whipping boy leaving me no time to learn the necessary charm for removing blood from silk brocade. And now my music room looks like the spring slaughter was held there. "_No trouble at all, sister."

I tugged a beaker from the rack above my head for her. Not my nice china. She had a habit of throwing things. I held my mouth in a firm line as I prepared our coffees. I could feel her eyes boring into my back. When I gave her the coffee, she noted the difference between our cups. Even unhinged, she was damned observant. "Scared I'll break the good stuff?"

I didn't have to answer. Sipped my coffee. Gods, it was good.

Bella was looking into hers thoughtfully. "D'you think I'm crazy, Cissy?"

I didn't have to answer that, either. I watched her toss back the hot beverage with amazing speed, her graceful throat working noisily as she drained the mug. Then, she set it empty on the marble counter before her. She drew her wand.

"Bella," I said.

But the incantation was whispered already. I watched the simple black beaker morph, melt and reshape into two Regency dancers. They waltzed down the counter to some silent music.

"See? I'm still a good witch."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I never said you weren't."

"Did you miss me?"

_I did not. _"Of course, I did."

She nodded, her mouth hanging open to reveal her awful teeth. Perhaps she would let me fix them… "How is Lucius?"

_Awful_. "Fine."

"And Draco?"

I was quiet on that subject, til her glazed eyes cleared and she stared into me. "Cissy. I said, how is Draco?"

"Fine."

She squinted for a moment. I gulped. "Huh. Good." Her eyes fell to the counter. There was a _Witch Weekly_ magazine. She opened it. I tapped the delicate dancers with my own wand and poured her another coffee.

"Why the fuck would you want a lip-plumping potion?" She asked no one in particular.

"Some witches have thin lips," I answered practically. She looked up at me.

"We don't."

I shook my head. "No, not really."

"Mm." She flicked through pages, pausing only briefly. "Says here 6 out of 10 witches are harassed in their workplaces." She gestured around the kitchen. "D'you feel harassed here, Cissy?"

My not-thin lips quirked. "Constantly."

She nodded and scrunched her face. It made her look freakishly young. "I'll take care of Scabior. He needs to keep his bloody paws to himself."

I made a dismissive face.

"You look really tired," Bella said. I stared. She pointed to her own eyes. "Bags." She looked apologetic.

"Thank you." Why couldn't I just let it go? "You look like a demented concubine."

She blinked. I felt a wave of nervousness and fingered my wand hilt. But suddenly, her head tilted back and maniacal laughter escaped her deep red lips. "Oh, that's good," she breathed, collecting herself. "That's…that's really fucking good, Cissy."

I tried a smile and shook my head. She flipped another page. "Flick on the wireless," she murmurred.

"You've a bloody wand," I retorted.

She blew a raspberry, but her talon was out so fast I jumped. The wireless on the counter zapped to life. News… She flicked again and music emerged. It must not have been to her liking, because she flicked a few more times til she settled on some ruckus Draco probably liked.

Her head bobbed. She flipped another page. Her hair seemed to like the music, as well. It moved as though it had a life of its own. Impulsively, I reached out and tossed a thick curl of it out of her face. She looked up in delayed startlement. "It was in your coffee," I said.

She shrugged. "Happens." Then she was grinning, lifted the magazine as if in success. "Narcissa Black Malfoy." She addressed me in a put-on officiality.

I rolled my eyes. "What?"

"Is your wizard performing to your expectations in bed?"

I blushed and set my coffee down. "Bella, really…"

"Well?" She rolled the magazine and popped me with it.

"Ow!" I slapped her assault away.

"Is he?"

I put my fingertips to the edge of the counter and she settled back into the chair. _Gods, am I really doing this? _"I expect him to sleep like the dead and he does. So, yes."

Her face morphed through a series of alternately insulting and sympathetic expressions. I bit my lip. "You poor thing," she finally whispered. "You know? You should have it on."

"Have it on?"

"Yeah, you know…" A lewd gesture. "Have an affair!"

I hated that she could embarrass me so, knew how she loved it. "Bella, please!"

"Oh, it would be _so_ easy, easy, easy!" She singsonged. "Big house…inattentive husband…lots of going and…coming." Here she snorted at her own joke. I waved her off. "Antonin." She slapped the table. "He's handsome."

"He's disgusting!" Why was I smiling? "And married!"

"He just has terribe table manners," Bella excused. "And you're married, too, so fuck it. I mean 'him.' Fuck him."

"Absolutely not." I chuckled, though. She saw she was getting to me and piqued.

"How about Yaxley? You like the tall ones."

I leaned on the counter, willing to play now. Felt nice, actually… "I can't get over his mouth." I grimaced. "It's shaped…funny."

"Not funny!" She cried. "It's…unique. And he's a rather long tongue. Mouth like that could eat a witch out for hours…"

"_Bella_!"

"Snape!" She shouted.

I put my hands over my ears, laughing aloud now. "Nonononono!"

"Yesyesyesyesyes!" She crumpled the magazine to her ample bosom, eyes going glassy. "Severus…" She moaned. "Oh, Severus…that's sooooo good!" I marched around the counter, determined to hush her. She was getting louder. Her voice deepened with my flush. "Narcissa! Oh, Narcissa…you're sooooo tight!"

I grabbed the edges of the magazine and wrenched it from her grip. She was in paroxysms of groans and muffled laughter as I attacked her with the abused pages. "Shut it!" I yelled. I was laughing, too.

She wrestled the magazine away and slid it onto the counter. Suddenly my hands were held behind my back, and my sister's woolly head pressed into my tummy. I gasped. "I missed you so, Cissy," she said. "I'm glad to be here with you. And I'm…sorry you're so unhappy."

I pulled my hands free and patted her insane curls. "We'll be alright, Bella. Won't we?" _Won't we?_

Just then her hands slid to my arse and she grabbed roughly. I whirled away, skirt swirling. "What the hell, you deranged cow?"

She was turning back to the magazine innocently. "Just wanted to know what Scabior's attraction was…now I know."

My arse hurt. I rubbed at it and leaned my hip against the counter. "Sick. You need to let me fix your bloody nails. They're dangerous."

"Oh, yeah!" She held her hands in front of her. "I was gonna ask you to. Nearly sliced my clit off masturbating the other night…"

"_Bella!" _I dropped my face in my hands.

"Oh, come on!" She punched my thigh.

"Ow!"

"Don't stand there all high and mighty on your pristine pedestal and tell me you don't fuck yourself, you prissy princess! I know why your bleeding baths are so long…and is it necessary to ward the bathroom door like you think aurors are going to burst in?"

"Yes!" My face was terribly hot. "Because they might!"

"And you're diddling yourself!"

I slapped my hand across her mouth. She snatched it away and pulled me across her lap. "Bella, stop! Stop this now!" I couldn't get my feet to the floor, couldn't squirm away from her grip. Her elbow squeezed into my ribs, probably bruising, while the hand gripped my hip.

_She's not. She will absolutely not – _Her free hand fell sharply and loudly onto my arsecheeks. I screamed.

"Naughty (smack), naughty (smack) witch (smack)!"

My hands scrambled for purchase, gripped one of her high-booted legs. "You fucking bitch!"

"How dare you diddle yourself in the bathtub?" Her voice was high and mad. One last resounding, painful smack and she dumped me unceremoniously to the floor.

I oomphed and crab-walked away from her. "Goddammit, Bella!" My bum stung. The cool stone floor felt wonderful against it.

She was relaxed and chuckling, watching me impotently seethe. "Actually the spanking wasn't for diddling." She turned back to the magazine, flipped a page. "That was for lying to your sister about diddling."

I was dusting myself off. "I never lied!"

"You were going to." She held up an ad. "I want these nails. Can you do it?"

My jaw dropped. "After _that_?" I gestured to her lap. "You're lucky you aren't getting hexed!"

"Aw, Cissy…" The pout. "Shall I kiss it and make it better?"

"Unbelievable." I walked around the counter. "You are truly unbelievable."

"I love you, Cissy."

I looked at her bemusedly. "Really."

"Spankings is how I express my affections…"

_Damn her._ My lips quirked again. "Very well. I'll do your bloody nails." I paused while she performed a wiggly chair dance of victory. "Can I fix your teeth, too?"

She froze. I swallowed. "Can you?" She asked. "I mean…you know the charms?"

I nodded. "They won't be perfect, but…"

She was up and rushing around the counter. I backed against the sink. "Bella!"

But she absorbed me in a hug. "Oh, Cissy…" Her breath was hot on my neck. "You'll make me pretty again!"

I rubbed her back awkwardly. I wasn't very good at physical affection…or any kind, really. "I'll do my best, Belle."

She pulled back, cradled my face in her hands. She was eating my features with her eyes. "You got all the pretty, Cissy. You know? I just got all the…crazy, I guess." Her thumbs stroked my lips. My breath caught. "But you certainly got all the pretty…" Her eyes were empty sort of…I just saw myself reflected in them. But there was a fearful intensity in the absence. "If I was Lucius…"

"Bella?" I put my hands to her elbows. She blinked, seemed to wake up, and stepped back.

"Right, then." She tapped her ragged claws on the counter. "Let's have a makeover, shall we? Sisters!"

My entire being relaxed. I smiled. "Upstairs," I said, herding her out. Our coffees cooled behind us, forgotten.


	2. Softly Wash Again

Thanks to all who have begun following this piece. It is co-written with the lovely mysthslayerwitch...wherever she is. I love her and need her back to be my Bella. I'll be sleeping outside of her dorms until she forgives me. Always...to my Dragon.

The Hands of the Sisters

_Softly Wash Again_

The wireless in my room hadn't played in ages. Bella was humming along to the song. It was an old one, but I'd forgotten most of the words. Her fingernails were taking shape beautifully. The file scratched away under my charm, almost keeping time with the music.

We sat on the bench at the foot of my bed, Bella lotus style and myself straddling. It was a wholly improprietous pose, but we'd been into Lucius' firewhiskey, so propriety could be damned. My legs in fact, protruded unashamedly from the slits in my long silver frock. Bella had commented they were pretty… Had it been so long since I'd been flattered? It was like honey from a stone.

We chatted about nothing; getting her some clothes of her own, my ridiculous shoe collection, the possibility of charming my hair one color or the other, how her hair was beyond help… We chatted like any two witches would, really. No talk of the Dark Lord, of blood status, or the war. Just sisters talking.

_This is perfect._

I could almost forget, this way; the evil residing in my house, my son's new tattoo, my husband's failure and upcoming trial… I shook the thoughts off and summoned a tray of nail varnish from my vanity. "Pick," I said succinctly.

Bella looked giddy. "Oh, can't we do them all? This one!" It was a red so dark it was nearly black. _Why am I not surprised?_

"Scoot closer," I said. I did the painting myself. Magic is a lovely instrument, but I know there are few sensations as calming as hands and fingers working hands and fingers. I watched my sister's face go sleepy and content.

"Remember this song, Cissy?" Firewhiskey lingered on her breath. I did remember it, nodded. Bella softly sang along, each word puffing against my bangs as I studied her nails. "_So wiiiitch don't cry…cuz true magic never dies…and as long as cauldtons bubble…my soul will be your double…and I won't lie…if our love should melt or dry…I'll still hold your heart in mine…I'll take it into my next life…_"

I finished her right hand and let it go. "Don't quit your day job." She smirked and gave me her left. The right one fell onto my bare knee. I ignored it…outwardly. Her fingers were surprisingly warm. Or my leg was cool from exposure. I could feel the calluses on her palms scraping my sensitive skin, remnants of her stay in Azkaban, I suspected.

"Your skin's quite dry," I said. My throat was quite dry, too. "A milk and honey soak will be good for you."

"Sounds nice." She touched my leg purposefully. "Is that what you do, Cissy?" I tensed, but didn't flinch. "You bathe in milk and honey?" Her fingers pressed and lightened their pressure on my skin. "You're soft."

My lips tightened. "Hold still."

Her hand stopped, but didn't leave my leg. "Do you taste like milk and honey after?"

I breathed a nervous laugh. "Don't be silly." I blew lightly on her finished fingernails. "Come on. Let's take care of your teeth."

"Now?"

I tidied the manicure things away. "You said you wanted a makeover."

"Can I do you after?"

"My teeth are fine, Bella."

"You know what I mean." She tucked my hair behind my ear. "I'd like to see you with some color, is all."

"I'll think about it." I patted the bed. "Up. Lie with your head propped, please."

She scrambled up like a child and fluffed an already fluffy pillow before flopping into it. She sighed and crossed her ankles, shaking one foot. "Shall I do anything?"

"Open your mouth." I winced. They looked just…awful. Many of her teeth were jagged if not broken off entirely. I caressed her chin. "Gods, Belle…how did this happen?"

"Well we don't see too many healers in Azkaban," she answered. "At least not if you're a Death Eater."

I sighed. "It may be uncomfortable… Do you want a pain potion?"

Her dark eyes were hard. "I assure I'm quite impervious to pain."

"Very well." I'd performed the spell a few times. Draco'd had notoriously crooked teeth. And I'd worked on Lucius' mouth a few times after some nasty duels. I held her jaw open firmly and performed the incantation. There was some intricate wand work involved. Severus would no doubt scoff at it. But it worked.

The magic swirled blue in Bella's mouth. It basically…rearranged. Took material from other teeth or the bone of the jaw and dispersed it like filler. It took some time and was draining. True to her word, Bella didn't once flinch. Her eyes were closed as if she slept the entire time.

I checked my work a little breathlessly. Maintaining such a detailed spell tended to exhaust even the strongest witch or wizard. I was certainly no exception. A few minor touch-ups, and I stepped back.

"Done," I announced weakly.

My head swum. I leaned against the bedside table, saw Bella's blurry legs sweep over the side of the bed. "Fuck Merlin, Cissy!" She took my elbow and turned me til I sat on the bed. "That was some bloody magic. You've nearly done yourself in!"

She was tilting my head this way and that as if checking me for visible damage. "Sit here," she said. "I'll be right back."

I studied my wand while she was away. The silver studded hilt was warm in my grip, and I could still feel the waning pulse of magic at my fingertips. It was a comfort to me and always had been, since I was a girl of eleven, stepping into Ollivander's behind the rustling skirt of my mother, and the brash shadow of my sister Bella. I remembered the wandmaker taking one look at me and saying, "Ah. Something special for this one, I believe."

It was ebony; nearly thirteen inches, quite rigid, with a unicorn hair core. "A wand for protection," my grandmother had proudly announced. "A wand for a strong witch to wield."

_Am I a strong witch? Exhausted by a silly dental spell?_ I chuffed rueful laughter.

"What's so funny?" Bella was back, holding out a box of chocolates.

"Mmmm." I took a piece. "Nothing." The chocolate was soft and melted away on my tongue. _Perfect._

"Cissy?"

"Hm?" My mouth was full.

"My teeth." I looked at her. She was smiling widely. "They're much better." And suddenly she flung her hard, bony arms around me. "Thank you!"

I leaned my head on her shoulder. "You're welcome, Bella." Chocolates had rained onto my bed when she grabbed me. I plucked one from the purple velvet duvet and ate it. She snatched another. Our feet swung over the edge of the bed for a while as we contentedly ate the sweet treat.

Bella jumped up. "Your bath!"

"My bath?" I was confused.

She pulled me to my feet, dragging me toward my bath chamber. "I started a bath for you! With your honey and milk!"

"Oh!" I was touched. And a bath sounded nice, actually.

"You've a fucking ridiculous tub, Cissy."

I smiled. "I love my tub." It was filling with steaming water. The milk mixture swirled, opalescent, in the enormous garden tub. Gauzy charmed window hangings let the midday light in through the tall window, but allowed no eyes to see in. This room – this tub – was my solace.

Humming tunelessly, tired from my magic and lulled by chocolate, I began undressing. I let my dress and slip fall to the tile, careless. I perched on the edge of the marble tub and tested the water. She'd gotten it perfect. Biting my lip in anticipation, I slipped into the water. "Oh, lovely," I breathed.

"Nice?"

Merlin, I'd forgotten Bella! Had she watched me undress? I turned toward her voice and froze. My eyes widened in shock.

My sister was naked, as well, and shamelessly selecting flannels from the corner rack. "Bella!"

She turned. "Yes?"

I covered my eyes stupidly and whipped my face away. "What are you doing?"

She chuckled. The chuckle indicated her closeness. "Here." The flannel dropped to the water's surface before me, and my sister stepped into the tub.

"You can't be serious!" I cried.

"What?" Before I could go on, she'd submerged herself fully and popped back up. Her hair clung to her creamy skin in thick, black waves. She spat a stream of bathwater from her mouth. "Yech! Doesn't taste like honey and milk at all!" She laughed, completely ignoring my scandalized expression. "Tastes like two nasty witches, is what it tastes like!" The laugh became a cackle before dying slowly. "What's wrong, Cissy?"

I collected my thoughts. "I don't usually…well, I have never shared my bath, Bella."

"We bathed together all the time as girls, Cissy."

"As girls, yes." I kept the frustration out of my voice. "Now…we are…grown witches."

"So?" She splashed me.

"Bella!"

She splashed me again. "Nar-cis-sa." Her legs were parallel to mine. She was facing me. "Guess what."

I surrendered to the surreality of the moment. "What?"

She looked at me as she gave the faucet a turn. The water shut off. "You've got an amazing body."

I groaned and held up a hand to silence her. "No, fucking listen!" She splashed me.

"Stop it!"

"I can't believe you've a boy who's almost…bugger me…how old is Draco?"

I scrubbed my face and neck. "He's 16 now. Nearly 17."

"Gods above," she murmured. "Nearly a grown wizard."

"I know."

"Want me to wash your hair?"

"No."

"Will you wash mine?"

"Oh, bloody hell…" This bath was not to be relaxing at all. "Yes. Turn around."

She giggled and scooted around. Her arse squeaked across the bottom of the tub as she settled between my legs. My breath caught. Her spine was as sharp and protruding as a dragon's. I held my tongue, reached for the shampoo on the tub's edge, and began to lather her coarse hair.

I couldn't help my own eventual snicker. "Your hair is a mess, sister."

"Is not!" She retorted. "Plenty of witches throughout time have had hair like mine. Powerful witches."

"Those were gorgons."

"Cheeky!" She pinched the side of my knee.

"Ow!"

"And whingey!" She pinched again.

"I'll rip it out," I threatened, tugging a soapy shank.

"Alright! Alright." She settled. "Don't get staticky." Her fingers rubbed soothingly the place they'd pinched. "You're right," she said. "This shite does make you nice and smooth."

I wriggled. That felt… "Quit it. Ready to rinse?"

She didn't answer, but dipped back underneath the water. Soap surfaced all around. I ran some fresh water while she fanned her head like a mermaid. When I turned back, Bella was on her knees, holding the shampoo bottle. "Your turn!" She chimed.

I blinked at her. Bella's breasts were fuller than mine. Azkaban may have thinned her, but it had not taken her curves completely. Her nipples were dark, while mine were peachy. Our differences were so numerous… I went under if only to stop staring at her.

Her fingers and newly manicured nails felt good against my head. She nattered on while she scrubbed, but I hardly listened. I wanted to sleep, and Bella's scalp massage wasn't helping. I must have yawned because she paused. Her slick hands fell to my shoulders and rubbed there a bit.

"Rinse your hair, Cissy. And let's have a lie down." She left the tub. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her wet feet slap over to the towels. Her hips looked a little sunken, but her legs were still long and shapely. There was a tiny cluster of beauty marks on her back, just above the crack of her arse. She left a towel on the tub's corner for me.

I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in the large, thick towel to find my sister in one of my dressing gowns – the pale green one. How did she make something that was so practical on me seem so salacious?

I pulled another from the wardrobe – blue. "Shall I dry your hair?" I asked.

"Leave it," Bella replied. "It does whatever, anyway."

That, I agreed with. I picked up my wand to dry my own, but discovered I lacked the strength. Bella patted the edge of the bed, producing her own wand. "Sit," she said. Her glamour charms were rusty, but soon my hair was straight, dry and silky. "Lovely." She stroked it.

I swung my legs up onto the bed. She made way for me and propped on her elbow when I settled onto my pillow. "That's a good color on you, Cissy." She fingered the lapel on my robe. "Brings out your eyes."

I looked into her eyes, again seeing only myself reflected there.

"Rest," she said decisively. She lay down beside me – close beside me – and threw an arm over my midriff. I was too tired to protest, and perhaps would not have done so anyway. The embrace was protective and almost…sweet.

Her hair smelled wet, and good. I breathed her in as she breathed me in. She kissed my shoulder, and we slept.


	3. Deeds of Carnage

Always to my dragon...and mew...and mys... Here's where things get 'sticky,' all.

The Hands of the Sisters

_Deeds of Carnage_

Sentenced to Azkaban. I felt numb. Draco stood just behind me as the cameras flashed. I felt his hand briefly touch my back in support. Such a good boy… We left the Wizengamot with heads high. We arrived home the same way, but parted immediately upon entering the foyer. Draco climbed the stairs slowly, no doubt to stew in private. I wondered if he would cry for his father as I watched his back…

I simply stood, removing my gloves and hat. I wasn't ready to think. Bella appeared in the drawing room archway. She just stared at me. Her face was soft, eyes less steely than usual, mouth less pouty. From upstairs, I heard excited voices and looked up.

"There are discussions about Lucius," she explained.

"I'm certain."

"Draco is with them."

A sharp blade of panic pierced my chest. "Why?"

"I suspect he wishes to atone for his father's failure."

_No! _I took off for the stairs nearly at a run. She grabbed my elbow. "Let me go."

"Don't be foolish, Cissy!"

"He's a boy!" Now tears? In front of her? "He's my son!"

"No one knows that moreso than him." She gestured upward with her chin. "He wants to save you. And his father."

"Fuck his father," I hissed vehemently. "We are in this mess because – "

"Mess?" The madness sparked in her eyes. "Careful, Cissy. This is a cause we fight for."

"A cause that will kill my son? Myself? You?" I shook with rage, sadness and…something I couldn't pinpoint.

"I would die for his Lordship, yes. As would Draco. As would you." She paused, searched my face. "Would you not?"

"I would die for my son," I whispered.

Suddenly and harshly, her hand grasped my chin. "Broaden your bloody horizons, Cissy!" She spat when she spoke, glanced up. "And work on your occlumency, dammit." Her grip lightened. "Do not appear fragile." Her tone became gentler, almost secretive. "They will make it hard on you…and Draco. Probably even me."

A cry from above curdled my blood – my son's cry. This time, I managed to wrench free of her grip and nearly tripped as I bolted up the stairs. There, in the dining hall, my boy knelt before the Dark Lord, curled in pain, gripping his arm. _No!_

Eyes settled upon me. Fenrir Greyback. Antonin Dolohov. Pius Thicknesse. And my sister sauntered past me. I felt her fingers brush my ribs, not a gesture of comfort but of warning. Voldemort's glowing slits settled on my terrified face.

"Ah…the mother of the man!" He exclaimed. His breathy hiss chilled me. "You should be proud of this one, Narcissa. He will do you far more good than your husband." His bony, clawed hand fell to Draco's head in a sick pat.

Bella knelt beside Draco and pulled his arm toward her. "I'm so very proud of you," she murmured to him. "The pain passes quickly."

But Draco's eyes had found my own. His lip curled and he stood, shrugging his aunt away. Wincing, he tugged down his sleeve. "Draco," I whispered.

"Be proud, Cissy!" Bella said firmly. "We are all proud of Draco this day."

Her hand curled over his shoulder. She pressed against his side. Bile rose up in my throat. But Draco's face…such coldness and meanness I had never seen there. He was terrifying.

The others were departing. Voldemort turned toward the warmth of the fire. Even in warm weather, he was cold as a corpse, like his bloody snake curled around his feet. I…I _hated_ him. And I feared that hatred would mean an end to us. Bella was right about that – I would have to occlude more strongly.

I was shaken by a snort close to my ear. Greyback, the disgusting creature, had stopped behind me and taken a whiff of my presence. "I smell her fear," he growled. "Delicious…"

In a flash, Draco was at my side. His hand wrapped protectively round my waist, the other pressing his wand tip to Fenrir's throat. "You get your putrid, polluted cur-nose off my mother," he spat. "Or I'll finish you."

Greyback backed down, hands raised in surrender. Bella watched the scene with wide, appreciative eyes. When the werewolf disappeared down the stairs, she and Voldemort erupted into surprising, horrifying laughter. "Well done, Draco," the Dark Lord murmured. Bella clapped, looking to her master for concurrence.

I looked at my son. He shook. I felt it in the hand at my waist, placed my own hand over it. "Son…"

His face was steel, but in the narrowed eyes I saw fear, and an apology. "I'll make you proud, mother," he said. "I promise."

He was off before I could reply. My knees went weak and I started to sag. I felt my sister against my back, catching me. "A drink, Cissy!" She shouted boisterously, turning me. "To celebrate your brave, brave boy." She shoved me from the room.

I was numb and pulled up the stairs by my limp arm. "You get hold of yourself," Bella was saying. "I'm not going to have you jeopardizing the whole operation."

"Operation?" We were entering my room. Bella slammed the door behind me and leaned against it.

"I'm going to tell you because you must find out, anyway. But I won't have you going off your head, do you understand?"

She dared speak to me like a child? My anger flared. "Respect me in my house, sister!"

Her eyes were wide and she was suddenly in my face. "I'll respect you when you can respect the situation we're in." She circled me. "Draco has an important task set before him. A very difficult and challenging task. And if he is successful, he will be the Dark Lord's next right hand."

"Severus is – "

"Snape is a filthy traitor!" Bella spat. "Draco is hope for us…for you."

"What's the task?"

She stared at me, obviously expecting the worst. "He's to kill Dumbledore."

She said it so calmly. I wanted to have misheard her, but she'd been most clear. I could feel my face collapsing. "No, Bella…" I cried openly, dropped to my knees, didn't care. "Please. Please! Draco is no assassin! My boy is no murderer!" I grabbed at her skirts.

She pulled away, looking to the door as if afraid we were being heard. "Ssshh!" She took hold of my face. My tears collected in the crease of her thumb. "Get your fucking self together." She spoke the harsh words with gentleness. "I will be there to help him, Cissy…the Dark Lord has bidden it. Along with one or two others."

I was not reassured. Bella was reaching into her skirt. She produced a silver flask embellished with a bird's skull. "Get up," she said. "You look like a common beggar."

I stood, shaking, and walked to my bed. As soon as I sat, the flask was open and in my face. "No firewhiskey," I said, pushing it away.

She shoved it back. "Not firewhiskey. My own brew. You need it."

I needed something. I was numb. I smelled… "Wormwood." I took the flask.

"Yes, you've an impressive garden." She smiled as I drank deeply. It burned and tasted of licorice whips. "Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder," Bella chimed. She tucked my hair behind one ear. "Muggles call it chasing the dragon…unless you've already caught one?"

I looked up at her. What could she mean by that? There was too much suggestion in her look… I'd half emptied the flask and realized too late that I should have known better. My lips were tingling.

"Draco is awfully protective of his mummy." Bella took a swig, too.

_Oh, gods…_ "Fuck you," I growled. "You're disgusting."

Her eyes darkened. "I meant no offense, Cissy. Just an observation." She reached toward me and I slapped her hands away. "Calm down! I'm just trying to help you get comfortable." Her fingers were unbuttoning my frock coat. "Come on," she whispered. "You need to cool off a bit."

The green fairy was caressing my nerves. It was too strong. I helped her free me from my jacket. She pushed me back and I fell onto my bed listlessly. There were many green fairies, it seemed…dancing about in the dust motes revealed by the moonglow. I sighed when she tugged off my shoes, heard the heels clunk onto the carpet. "Pretty feet, Cissy." She tickled one and I jerked away.

"Stop." Things were a bit blurry. I was trying to remember something…

Her fingers were snapping my garters open. Blearily, I rose up on my elbows. My sister was bent and elbow deep beneath my skirt. I felt a protest on my lips, but licked it away. She tugged at my stockings – one in each hand – roughly. I heard one tear and gasped.

"Ooopsy." She giggled.

Her fingers felt like snakes wrapping round my legs. "Bella…"

She ignored me, found the buttons on my skirt. I felt completely languorous as it whisked down my legs. My sister crawled over me, straddled my thighs and began on my blouse. "Too many buttons, Cissy," she complained. "You need to wear less. Like me."

I nodded, nearing delirium at the situation. She chuckled back like a hungry thing pawing at my camisole. "Sit up." I obeyed. Her breasts pressed against me. They were reigned in tightly by her black corset, but I felt them just the same.

I'd found the dragon, it seemed, and it was leering at me from beneath a sheath of mauled pitch curls. I separated from reason, and yanked at her corset ties. My arms around her were heavy, and every brush against leather cooled a heat below my skin.

We grew quiet. Our breaths the only sounds in the room. She had me naked in seconds, tossing my dainties carelessly about. I had managed to loosen her bodice, but her motions had retarded further drunken fumbling. Was I drunk? I didn't feel drunk…just remarkably sensitive.

Bella finished her bodice herself, tearing a sleeve in the process. I watched its unraveling and sympathized. She fussed out of her skirt impatiently and wore nothing underneath. How brazen…but this was Bella. Her skin against mine was chilly and raised my goosebumps in an instant… We were lying on my bed…naked as babes…and I was _touching_ my sister!

She rubbed against me, shameless, the freshly shaven thatch over her mons scritching my thigh. I moaned, didn't I? "Cissy," she said. "I want you. It's awful, isn't it." But her lips…her thick, pouting always lips had found my breast…

"So good," I murmured. My eyes closed. Sensation alone would guide me through this maelstrom. The fingers I'd manicured days before weren't shy, but parted my folds eagerly.

"Cissy, you're wet," she said wonderingly. I bucked in response, whimpered. My arm was awkward at my side, trying to get a hand to her breast. I wanted to feel her, dammit… "Here." She sensed my dilemma and rolled us to our sides. "Now." Her eyes were taking me in, wide and excited. I wondered if my own were barely open as I finally palmed her breast.

Oh, how soft she was…her dark nipple puckered and I touched it with my tongue. _Nothing like Lucius…_ I snaked my hand lower, teased at her shallow navel before I found the curious crease of her. She felt like a warmed ripe plum split open. I rubbed clumsily at the fleshy pit and she gasped. "You're sweet, Cissy…a sweet little lover…I want to see how deep the sweet flows. Can I taste you?"

Taste me? _Gods, how long has it been?_ With some ungraceful maneuvering, my head settled in the pillows and my sister's settled between my thighs. Again, she gave me no time to prepare. The sensations piled in an onslaught and I surrendered. "Oh fuck, Bella!" My voice was a high, unrecognizable shriek. My hands fired into the duvet, gripping it white-knuckled as though it was sanity.

Her lips tugged and suckled at me, released so that her tongue could lap, flick and grind. Occasionally she paused to look, to study her work, those eager fingers sliding skin this way and that…then she plunged two inside me and I arched into her mouth.

Too much. Not enough. It was pain. It was bliss. "Please, sister!" I cried out. "Pleasepleaseplease…" I panted, became aware of a burn on my calf. She was humping me like an animal and I couldn't see her other hand…but it didn't matter. The blankets slipped my grip as I let go coherence and clutched at her head.

Nothing mattered but the magic building inside me, the fullness threatening to brim over…if only I could focus…and finally…I wept with the aching intensity of the smothering waves. I tore at the coarse hair tangled in my fingers. "Bella," I sobbed.

"Taste." She was in my face, breasts squashing mine and her fingers slipped between my lips. I gagged, but my rebellious tongue swiped at my own essence like a tramp's would. I tasted…musky…and spicy. Her fingers were retrieved with an audible pop, replaced in an instant by her swollen lips. Again I tasted myself, and Bella's bitter bite.

She pulled my fingers from her hair, wrenching out a few strands, and cupped my palm over her hot bloated cunt. She kissed me as I worked her senselessly, hardly knowing what she would enjoy and unable to refine my approach. Her tongue invading my mouth, ringing the insides of my lips, loosely guided my ministrations. But she hardly needed an expert touch, it seemed...or a gentle one.

Soon she was panting against my lips, growling in her chest and grunting. She rutted against me, attacked my neck with her teeth as she came shuddering and wailing atop me.

We stilled. There was nothing between us but heat and sweat and our mingling hair. Bella rolled away from me and fell into the comforter, breathless. My hand was a mess of wet and slick. I held it up stupidly, trying to collect my thoughts and my dignity only to have Bella grab it and lick it clean. I stared as she dropped it onto my belly.

She was looking at me. She was a bit hazey…I was hazey… "Bella." My tongue was too thick, mouth acrid.

"Hush." She put a finger to my lips. "You need to sleep, Cissy."

She must have been right. My eyes were closing of their own accord. I felt her tucking me in. She kissed my forehead, my nose, then lingered on my lips. The bed dipped. She was climbing in beside me. "You're a very sweet lover, Cissy…" I drifted to sleep with her finger tracing runes on my torso. Ur. Th. Rad. Ken...Geofu...Wynn...Is...Yr…


	4. Sisters Death and Night

To my dragon as always and all of my lovely reviewers and those who have favorited and followed this piece that started as a whatnot - thank you.

The Hands of the Sisters

_Sisters Death and Night_

I woke alone; fuzzy-headed and more furious by the second. How could she? My own fucking sister – how could she make me into… My hand brushed the flaky opaque substance dried to my thigh, and I vomited into my hand. "Oh, fuck!"

I dashed naked into my bath chamber and flung the offensive bile into the sink. "Oh, gods…what have I done?" The taste of sour licorice whips seemed eternal.

"That fucking _bitch_!" I spat, shaking. My own sister – my own flesh and blood – poisoned me and… I spun to my tub and twisted the taps maniacally. I let the water scald my flesh, as if I could boil away the shame. I didn't realize I was sobbing until I was scrubbing my face.

I was too dehydrated, too ill…just too damned _tired_ to be so angry. "Oh, Bella," I bawled. "Why?" And I bawled for Draco, too. I indulged fully in my self-pity, determined to have it done before she saw me. I would _not_ let her see me upset – not any of them.

In fact, I dressed carefully to promote my false confidence. The long, trim burgundy frock sported a Victorian collar and sleeves that bunched over the backs of my hands. I laced my ankle boots tightly and went down to breakfast.

Draco and Bella sat across from each other in the dining room. They were not speaking, but the heaviness in the air suggested some animosity brewing between them. Bella saw me first.

"Good morning, Cissy."

I nodded to her, controlling a scowl. My stomach churned.

"You look…nice," she added. Her devious chuckle suggested otherwise.

I gave her my most promising threatening glare and she sobered somewhat. I sat and Draco nodded to me. "Mother." I nodded back.

"Feeling well, then?" Bella asked innocently.

I ignored her. "I feel fine, sister."

"Good," she chirped. "Sleep alright, then?"

I heard Draco's cup crash rather heavily into its saucer. "I slept fine," I answered, my voice tight. I met her eyes almost pleadingly. _Not in front of my son, Bella…_

She backed off appropriately. "Draco." He glanced at her. "Tell your mummy about your plan."

"What plan?" I tried to sound unconcerned and failed. Draco cut eyes between the two of us.

"It's nothing, mother. Just an idea."

"A rather brilliant idea!" Bella snapped. "Tell her, Draco. It will make her feel better."

I doubted anything he had to tell me would make me feel better, and I was correct. News of the Vanishing Cabinet made my heart sink. I looked at Bella accusatorily. She'd bloody well known this would upset me.

I knew my sister's insanity wasn't by choice. She was as much a product of genetics as she was Azkaban or the sum of any dark traumas she may have suffered. But she embraced her crazy like a lover and leaned upon it like a crutch. Or she wielded it like a sword at any who dared defy her existence. In a perfect world, I could have ignored her. In this one, she was an incontrovertible difficulty.

My nostrils flared as I looked at my son. "I'd like to help."

"I don't need your help, mother. Please."

"No." I controlled the waver in my voice. "I need to do this. As much as I can. Before you are…" Gone. He would be at Hogwarts soon. On his own. Scared. I swallowed, collected myself. "When we got to Diagon Alley for your robes. I know Borgin well…" I patted his hand.

Bella watched like a hawk. "Draco will have other help there, as well."

"I don't care," I shot back. She made my skin crawl a hundred different ways at once.

"Fine." She pushed away from the table and left the room in that absent way she had, pausing to stroke my velvet sleeve. "Pretty," she said. "Red's a good color on you, Cissy. Bit conventional in style, though."

I looked at my son after she left. He slumped in his chair, pouting determinedly at his breakfast. "Draco," I whispered. He glanced at me. "I can…arrange help for you. If you – "

He shoved violently away from the table – away from me. "No help, mother. Let me do this. I have to."

"Draco!" I called after him, but he stormed away without a look back. I sat alone, then. Pouted at my own breakfast. It seemed everyone had a plan except myself… But one was beginning to form. In the desperatemost recesses of my mothering brain, a brilliant, forbidden bud opened into an unnerving flower of possibility.

Lucius' study was dim and noiseless. It smelled of stale cigar smoke. I closed the door behind me quietly and hurried to his desk. My husband's meticulous record-keeping made finding the information I sought relatively easy. The wards he kept upon his notebooks were worn now, having gone without freshening for some time. I waved my wand and unsurprisingly the enchantments crumbled. I suspected my husband was crumbling as well, as worn and wasted as the walls of his cell…

I shook my head, clearing it. Pages flipped. Severus Snape. Spinner's End. My finger traced the spiky inkings describing a muggle town, a factory looming, an overgrown canal… Apparation instructions. I closed the book and slid it beneath a stack of parchment paper.

Tomorrow. I would go to Spinner's End. I would go to Severus. For my son. A little peace descended on my heart. I had a plan.

"Cissy."

I whirled, startled. The study door snicked shut behind me. Bella stood expectantly in the hall before me. "What?" I asked.

She peered over my shoulder. "What's in there?"

"Nothing. Lucius' papers and such. I was hoping to find the book he'd been reading, but…" I shrugged.

"Huh." She stared. I occluded and she smiled. "What are you doing, Cissy?"

"What do you mean?" My palms sweat.

"Why are you blocking me?"

"Why are you reading me?"

"Because if you are not careful, we all stand to suffer greatly!" She shouted. Her frustration pulled her shoulders high. She gathered herself. "Trust me, Cissy. I know you. You want to protect him, but you can't and it's killing you. I can help you."

I laughed. "Help me? _You_ would have him in greater danger!" I shoved past her.

She caught me by the arm. I felt her nails dig in and hissed. "Listen to me, little sister," she whispered. "Like it or not, your wee dragon has gotten himself in over his head. Just like his father. And I might be the only thing keeping the Dark Lord from disposing of both your blonde twats for good." My eyes narrowed at her. "So tell me…or tell the Dark Lord himself. Because I won't let you fuck us all like you fucked me last night."

My hand moved of its own accord, delivering a sharp, resounding slap to her face. Her head turned away from me, but she didn't seem particularly fazed. Instead, she chuckled deep in her chest. I tugged my arm free. "So Cissy likes it rough." She wiped the edge of her mouth and showed me a drop of blood on her thumb. "I'll remember that for next time."

"You're sick," I spat, headed to my room.

"You'll tell me!" She called. "Or my upcoming practice sessions with Draco might get…nasty."

I stopped. "Practice?"

"The Dark Lord wants me to teach him some tricks," she said absently. "Wants the boy to work on his unforgivables a bit." I felt her close to my back. "You remember those, Cissy…" She moved my hair away from one ear and leaned in to whisper. "My favorites."

I shuddered. "You wouldn't hurt him. My son, Bella? Your nephew? Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

She curled around my torso til she faced me. "Not really. I'm your sister and you just slapped me. Must run in the family, hm?"

She would be the death of me… I glanced down the hall. We were the only two living beings present. I took a deep breath. "I'm going to Severus."

Her face blanked impressively. "What?"

"Severus can watch over him," I explained. "Can protect him."

"Snape is a filthy half-blood and a traitor." She grabbed my shoulders. "Don't be fucking stupid, Cissy." Her eyes were wide and manic. "I won't let you do it."

My hand slipped into the folds of my skirt, fingered my wand hilt. "You'll not stop me." The words were brave despite the quaver in my voice and the drumming in my chest. She'd seen me maneuver for my wand and the shock on her face grew, along with a twisted sort of relish.

But she released me suddenly and clutched her arm. "Shite!"

She was being summoned. I recognized the reaction to the burning Mark on her forearm. "Draco?" I said urgently. "Him, too?"

"Doubtful," she growled. "The whelp is useless right now." She started down the hall purposefully. "This isn't over, Cissy!" She called back. "And you won't leave this house at all without my knowledge."

I stood stunned for a time til I heard the banging of the main doors and the telltale whoosh of her smoky departure. Draco. I made for his room and knocked. There came no response. I turned to go, fretting and wringing my hands, but his door opened.

"Mother?"

"You're here," I breathed. The relief washed over me like a thick, fast snow. He was rumpled as if he'd been asleep. "Did I wake you?"

"I hadn't meant to fall asleep. What's wrong?"

When had those circles developed beneath his eyes? "Nothing." I tried a weak smile. "Bella was summoned and I…"

He puffed ruefully. "Not me. At least, not yet."

I wanted to hold him. I wondered if he would let me. Probably not. "Good. I'll let you return to your rest, then."

"Mother."

His face in that moment, in the soft light of mid-morning, reminded me so much of his child-face that I wanted to caress it. But it was he who caressed me. He reached out hesitantly, his arm comprising the length between us, and brushed the tips of his fingers along my jaw. My throat threatened to close. The tears that had lived behind my eyes these last days spilled over. "Draco," I whispered.

His lips tightened. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head and stepped toward him. "Hush." Tugging his head down, I kissed his cheek wetly. His hands wrapped around my elbows. "Son. You're not a murderer. Please…"

The hands on my elbows pushed me away. "Good day, mother." I stared at the door that closed in my face and welcomed the chill numbness that spread through my bones.

Bella did not return that day. She was still out of the manor when I retired for the evening. I tried not to imagine where she was, what she was doing. Truthfully, I was simply glad she was gone; so glad, in fact, I nearly slept peacefully.

But I dreamed disturbing dreams. I was a nymph by a faerie pool, watching ripples spread across the mirror as my finger distorted my reflection. A panther stalked me, weaving between the brush like a loom shuttle. I could see the sleek cat in the water's surface. My muscles tensed, instinct telling me to bolt, but I'd nowhere to go.

It was no surprise when the beast became Bella. She shed fur and fang for skin and leather. I was rooted to the ground, unable to escape her slick gloved fingers. She pressed to my back, bent me forward til my face nearly touched the water, and shoved her hand inside my vagina. She reached and reached, as if her fist could feasibly grip my guts and destroy me from the inside out…

I woke on a guttural scream, drenched in cool, sticky sweat. Gasping near weeping, I clutched the duvet to my wracking chest. Dawn's light was just beginning to penetrate my gauzy window hangings. The house was quiet. I shed my clinging nightgown as I hurried to my bath chamber.

There wasn't time for a proper bath. I wanted to leave without drawing any attention to myself. I splashed my face, ignored the dirty feeling of dried sweat and dressed briskly. I'd chosen attire I considered 'mugglish:' a green frock far shorter than my normal ankle lengths and a pair of heels far higher than my normal one inch. I hoped to blend in when I visited Severus in his muggle habitat. There was no knowing how populated his street would be.

I slipped into my heavy brocade frock coat as I skittered down the stairs. I was rounding the corner to the main floor when I heard her throat clearing behind me. _Damn._

"Where are you off to, Cissy?"

I turned. In the shadowed alcove beneath the stairs, she appeared corpse-like. "You know where I'm going, Bella." I tugged on my gloves and proceeded toward the manor doors.

"Don't you dare." She followed me out, hissing like an angry badger all the way. I ignored her – not that my heart wasn't trembling in its cage – but desperate to do this thing, to succeed in one thing if nothing else. I would protect my son.

I wasn't surprised when she followed me to Spinner's End, apparating right behind me. When she again put her hands upon me, I hit her with a sharp stinging hex. It just may have convinced her how serious I was. The pissing contest she held with Severus was trifling. Her every word frisked my frustration. I felt that his coolness, his effortless disdain for Bella, kept me composed.

My true terror was that she would ruin this – this one chance of mine. But he agreed! Severus Snape knelt with me on his dusty, dirty floor, linked his hand with mine, and promised upon his own life to watch over my son. He would murder Dumbledore if Draco could not.

Was it wrong of me? To expect a man to shatter his soul in my son's stead? I could not find guilt within me. Even the moment the vow was sealed and the fiery snakes twisted round our linked hands, all I could think was _I've done it._

Severus had beautiful eyes, really… I noticed them that day. Staring into me. They looked black from afar, certainly. But I assure you… They were the warmest brown one can drown in. There was a moment, when I withdrew my hand from his, that I wondered what I might have given Severus for his vow. If my sister had not been there, watchful as a hawk and jealous, I wonder if Severus would have had me…fear, sweat, tears and all. Dirty as I was then, I admit now I would have let him.

Awkwardly we left him. I lingered, perhaps. Bella tugged me back into the rainy streets. "Happy now?" She asked. We made our way back to the hidden canal we'd used to apparate. "I can't bloody believe you," she muttered. "It's a good thing I followed you. Are you so desperate?"

"Bella, I would do anything for Draco!"

"That's not what I mean." She raised an eyebrow at me. "What a filthy whore, you are, Cissy." She pressed me against the mossy wet wall of the canal. "Would you have spread for that half-blood?"

"Get off me!" I shoved at her, but she thrust a leg between mine, pinning me. Nasty water dripped onto my ear from above and I flinched.

"Princess in the streets," she whispered. "Slut in the sheets?" Then her lips were on mine and we were apparating. We bled into one another – an unsettling feeling – and landed sprawled in the manor's walkway. Bella laughed as I forced her away from me. My hair was moist with the lawn's morning dew.

I tottered a bit as I rose, getting my bearings. Bella, on the other hand, sprang upright as though she apparated in such a way every day. I wiped my mouth with my hand as I crunched up the walk away from her.

"I wouldn't hold it against you, Cissy!" She continued taunting me, not far behind me. "If you wanted a little half-blood injection!" Cackling laughter. My cheeks burned. I slammed the heavy doors against her, still laughing like a madwoman outside.

When I looked up, I saw my son standing at the top of the stairs. He was shirtless and in sleep pants, looking at me with surprisingly little surprise. "Draco." I sounded terribly winded.

"Breakfast is cold, mother." He walked away.

I heard Bella's heavy steps on the stoop outside and hurried up to my room. I warded my door and had my bath, washed my hair. I don't know exactly what I was scrubbing at, but it didn't seem to wash away.

Clean and in a fresh dressing gown, I stretched upon my bed. My forearm tingled occasionally where Severus had held it… I stroked it. The magic of an Unbreakable Vow is powerful. It lingers within the participants until their vow is fulfilled or resolved or until…one participant dies. Severus' magic felt good; warm, secure and strong. I let it comfort me like a ribbon around reason. He would protect my son…

Darkness when I woke. I grabbed my wand from the bedside table and cast a tempus charm. Seven o' clock? Had I truly slept so long? My stomach rumbled and my head ached. _Food. _

Barefoot and barely dressed, I wandered from my room. Any other time, I might have been concerned about decorum, but not now. In the dim hallway, I saw a light slanting from Draco's room. Perhaps he would join me for dinner.

As I approached, I heard a muffled voice, still unmistakably Bella's. I steeled myself for a confrontation and peered around the edge of the door. Draco sat at the foot of his bed, looking rumpled. His hair was askew and his shirt untucked. There must have been a 'practice' session.

I pushed in further and froze. Draco looked up at me, startled and guilty. His hand was gripping his aunt's forearm, and her fingers were dipping inside his shirt. "Mother!"

He stood abruptly, ran a hand through his hair. But my eyes were on Bella. I felt the infinitesimal fluctuations of muscles in my face that came before fury. She saw them and smiled slowly. "Cissy –"

"Get out," I hissed.

The pout. Her eyes widened in mock innocence. "But, Cissy! We were just –"

"I said OUT!" I roared and lunged at her like a lioness. Our wands were drawn in tandem. Even Draco pulled his, and aimed it at Bella.

"Mother," he said. "Nothing happened."

"Nothing at all," Bella taunted. "Just like with Sev –"

My slicing hex nicked her wrist. "Fuck!" She volleyed with a stinging hex, but my swift son repelled it, flinging himself before me.

"Draco!" I pushed down on his protective arm.

"Oh, let the little dragon fight!" Bella crooned. "Let's see if he can perform like a real wizard if he has something to fight for. Stupefy!"

Draco's protego came too late. He crumpled to the floor beside me.

"You bitch!" I cried. "This is between _us_, Bella!"

"So mote it be, Cissy." Bella licked her wand tip, then flicked it casually toward me. "Crucio!"

I felt the rush, the icy chill of magic surge in my belly and up. It was faster than I could control, so I simply let it go. "Refracto," I spat.

Bella's own curse enveloped her, less powerful but a crucio just the same. She growled, nearly immune to the pain, and came at me again. "Ascendo!"

I felt my body leave the ground, allowed my muscles to relax, made myself feather-light and rolled when I hit the hallway floor. Bella was screaming laughter and running at me when I crouched. "Expelliarmus!" I felt the spell come full force. Her wand ricocheted off the wall and clattered to the top of the steps.

I didn't see her fist coming. She hit me hard across the mouth – no doubt retribution for my slap – as she scrambled past me to her wand. I was examining my blood on my fingers when I heard her 'Confringo!'

_Oh, hell no, bitch. _Time seemed to slow. I saw the fire, boiling in midair, roiling toward me. "Deprimo," I answered calmly.

My magic swirled beautifully, caught up her fire and hurled it back at her. She lunged aside, cursing at me. I wanted to see her hurt. "Glisseo!" I loved the glassy dust of that spell emerging from my wand tip. Before she could attain her balance, the slippery smooth sheet I'd created claimed her. With an infuriated shout, she skidded gracelessly down to the entrance hall.

Giddy with excitement and the prospect of victory, I ran to the stairs, using my propulsion to glide far more elegantly after her. But she was ready and waiting.

"RELASHIO!" Her anger was causing her to be careless, but her spell burned my hip, anyway. I gasped and grasped at it, extinguishing the flame on my dressing gown, while brandishing my wand left-handed. "Diffindo!" I heard the answering rip of her leather corset and a satisfying tear.

"My fucking hair!" She raised her wand again, shaking. I expected the worst, prepared a strong protego and braced myself. "Accio!" She said simply.

Her hand raised and my wand sailed into it, wrenched painfully from my grip. "No!" I yelled. "Fuck you, Bella!" And I was a frenzy. I rushed at her, shoved her backward with my bare hands, amazed at how far she was propelled. I dropped upon her heavily, hearing her 'oomph.'

The crazy cunt was laughing. "Oh, Cissy!" She cried. "Shall we do this the muggle way, then?" She tossed my wand into the drawing room and grabbed my hair with the empty hand. I screamed as she flipped me, feeling my hair pull at the roots.

With her between my legs, I couldn't find purchase save to push with my bare feet. But still Bella maintained a controlling grip on my hair. One of my hands gripped the hand on my head, the other gripped her wand hand. "Let go, little sister," she said.

Impotent rage coupled with the pains in my head and hip bubbled tears to my eyes. "You let go!" I answered tightly.

"Loser lets go first," she chimed back. "So let the fuck go, baby witch!"

I growled my anger and humiliation, but I let go just the same. All I had was the prayer my sister wasn't so far gone she would murder me. "Good," she murmured. But she didn't let go. Instead, I felt my head pulled to the floor. I cried out.

Her face was so close to mine. I pushed at her shoulders and she answered with a tug on my hair. "I'm not after your dragon, Cissy," she whispered in my ear. "Don't fret."

"You were touching him," I ground out.

"I knew you were watching," she replied calmly. I felt her wand tip sliding between my breasts. "I guess it's true what they say…" The coarse walnut slid the satin away from my right breast and I whimpered. "About a mother's love," she finished. Her lips, her teeth found my nipple.

"Bella!" I hissed through my teeth. Tears squeezed from my eyes.

Then her face was above mine again, hovering like a full moon in glow. Her eyes were impossibly dark, but the softness suddenly gracing her features shocked me to silence. "What do they know of a sister's love?" She asked. Then her lips found mine…


	5. This Soil'd World

To my dragon always and Lady Bellatrix Black Lestrange and all of my loyal readers and reviewers. You are kind. This chapter is rather Bella-light, but she will make up for it in the next one. Trust me. There is, however, a double dose of incest ahead...if you're into that. Also non-con. Be warned.

The Hands of the Sisters

_This Soil'd World_

I wouldn't kiss her. No matter what, I refused to kiss this hellbeast holding me by my hair. Her lips nipped, outright bit at my own. Her tongue invaded, licked across my clenched teeth. The hand in my hair finally retreated only to painfully grope my breast. Nails now broken cut my nipple as her bony fingers tweaked. When I yelped in pain, her tongue won admittance.

_No! _I groaned and growled fruitlessly. Again, her demanding hand held my head steady. Violently, she wrenched my head and body til my arms lodged akimbo beneath my back. "OW!" I cried out shamelessly in her mouth. Her thighs pushed mine up and wide when she rose to her knees. I was drowning in her kiss, suffocating. It didn't help that teary mucus stopped my nostrils.

When she pulled back to toss her wand out of reach, I gasped. "Please, Bella! Please don't do this!" But she ignored my supplications. Her absent and fevered expression frightened me. Roughly, her fingers rubbed between my thighs and I screamed.

"Awfully wet for a witch who doesn't want it, Cissy." Two fingers transgressed my swollen folds.

"Bella, stop!" I sobbed. The pain, the humiliation shattered me. "What do you want?"

"You, Cissy!" Her fingers fucked me fast and hard. Her palm fell heavily on my distended clit in a monstrous rhythm. Then she shifted til she pressed nearly flush against me. She was pressing her own arousal to the back of the hand working between my legs. The added pressure was bruising. "Oh, Cissy…I just want you." She licked a harsh trail up my neck and across my face, the flat of her tongue scraping. She panted like a cornered predator and clutched my head tighter in the crook of her arm.

The new angle yanked even harder at my hair. Every muscle in my body tensed against her assault. My cunt burned and I knew the hot stickiness I felt gathering there was blood. In a sick juxtaposition of her actions below, her lips caressed my breasts sweetly. She suckled me, licked at my peaked nipples - a putrid parody of affection.

A realization struck me with devastating suddenness: I would not survive this attack, couldn't. Wretched, I tried one final supplication with what I was certain was my last living breath. "Bella! Please, sister!" I screamed pure enmity, refused to die quietly.

She seized against me then, surged and howled victoriously. I felt her thighs shudder and she went lax. I took advantage and scrambled away. My sweaty palms slipped against the polished floor and I thudded onto my sore back. Her legs tangled with mine. My arms tingled, asleep. I settled for kicking her away and rolling to my stomach.

The marble floor was freezing against my wet, ravished breasts. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bella wipe a bloodied hand on her rumpled skirt. My belly convulsed. I retched, spat carelessly. My sister settled lotus-style behind me, watching. Legs trembling, I managed to rise to my knees.

"Cissy." She dared speak to me? I shook my head, covered my naked breasts and cinched the tie on my dressing gown. Dots of blood slipped the white satin and spread like pools of ink on parchment. "Cissy, look at me."

_I'd just as soon kill you…_ I put my hands to my face, wiped at tears, snot and spittle both mine and hers.

"Mother!" The exclamation literally shrivelled me. _God, please no. _"Aunt Bella! What the fuck?"

I heard him drop between us, couldn't look at his face. He was breathing audibly. "Your mummy and I had…a disagreement." Bella supplied. I hated her so much, then.

"With wands, I see," Draco snapped.

"How else do witches solve disagreements?" Bella asked sweetly. His hand touched my back and I flinched away. I would soil him most certainly.

"Mother. Are you…bleeding?"

"It's fine." I finally managed. But his face…oh, his face. I felt my resolve near crumpling again. "We got a bit out of hand," I whispered.

He wasn't buying it. I saw the revulsion he cast toward Bella. "Wait til our next practice," he said. "I've been thinking of something special for you, auntie."

Surprisingly, she didn't antagonize him. "Good." Was all she said, rising and dusting off her skirts. She wandered calmly from my sight.

Draco helped me to my feet. "Mother. What's she done?"

"Nothing, son. A duel." My bitten lip quivered. "She won." He turned my face toward the light. I jerked away.

"Merlin," he breathed. His eyes went steely, nostrils flared. "Come on, mum." I limped a little when I tried to walk, grimaced in embarrassment. "Where's your wand?"

I looked up in time to see it thrust in my face. Bella had fetched it. Draco snatched it, ushering me toward the stairs. He paused to glare in my sister's smug face. "Touch my mother again. I may not best you at Unforgivables, but you'll be afraid to sleep under this roof. I promise you." The ire in his voice convinced even me.

I looked back at Bella as my son helped me to the restored stairs. Her jealousy was as palpable as her magic. _What am I to do now?_

She had the parting shot I'd expected as we mounted the stairs. "Gonna let him lick your wounds, Cissy?"

Draco paused but I shook my head, urged him to keep climbing. Bella's cackle followed us to my room. I closed the door and leaned against it, breathing.

Draco straddled my vanity chair and watched me. "Mother. What did she do?"

Shame heated my face. I hoped to hide the blood trickling down my thigh. I pressed my fingers into my eyes. "Nothing, Draco."

"That was no duel, mother. I heard you screaming. I was trying to get to you…" He looked so helpless, so lost. "Her bloody stupefy was…"

_Oh, Gods!_ "I need a bath!" I spoke too quickly, too loudly and lurched toward my bath chamber. I closed that door, as well. Panicked. I stood on the cold tiles and felt empty. It seemed my actions from that point were those of an automaton. I filled the tub and stepped in. The water may have been tepid. I washed and inspected my wounds.

Bite marks on my breasts, and scratches. Bruises on my arms and thighs and between my legs… I whimpered. _Damn her! _I treated myself with potions from the cabinet above the sink. I sat naked and vulnerable upon the toilet, hissing at the sting of the healing salve on my torn core. _It will be good when Draco is gone. She won't be able to hurt him, to touch him. She'll have nothing to resent. _

I focused on my bruised face and burst lip in the mirror, dabbing salve with a fingertip. _She will have only me, then. And she may have my throat in lieu of his._

I'd not taken a dressing gown into the bath, but I expected to be alone. I gasped when I opened the door and saw my son on my bed. He wore soft sleep pants. His sculpted chest was pale in the moonlight. "Draco!" I hid behind the door, peering at him in mild shock.

He slipped awkwardly from the bed and approached my wardrobe. He pulled out a rich emerald gown, long with wide shoulder straps, looked away as he handed it to me. When I emerged dressed, he remained by my bed. "I'm sleeping here, mother." My eyes must have widened. "I don't trust her," he explained.

I stood motionless, watched him fold down the bedclothes for me, then climb in himself on the opposite side. He fell exhausted into my sumptuous pillows. "Come on, mum." He patted the pillows beside him. "I'm your son, for fuck's sake."

I pursed my lips and slipped into the duvet. My sore body melded with the feather mattress. Numbness, shock and anger bled from me. I was so very tired…

"Mother?"

My eyes battled closing to look at him. He was propped on one elbow, studying me. "Do you love my father?"

I moaned. _Too damned tired for this. _"Of course, I do, son." _Even less than I never did._

His face worked. He wouldn't speak whatever it was he thought. "Do you love Bella?"

My eyes watered. I closed them. "I want to." I hoped he understood. Then, I slept.

The sleep was deep and peaceful. I woke pressed against a warm body – my son's sinewy back. He faced away from me on his side, snoring very lightly. I smiled, then remembered the night before. Experimentally, I shifted my legs. Pain as expected, but not as intense as I'd feared. The potions had worked well. Still burned a bit when I used the loo, though.

I left the bed stiffly and sat before my vanity, brandishing my wand. Soon, I'd cleared up the marks on my neck, chest and shoulders. I secured my hair away from my face with a silver dragon clip. I dressed quietly in a light blue cotton frock with bell sleeves. Nice for the warm weather… Checking my reflection, I saw Draco sitting up in my bed, staring at me. "Good morning." _How long was he watching me?_

He just nodded. Draco wasn't much for morning conversation until his first cup of tea. He padded slowly into the lavatory and I went down to breakfast. Bella was already there, sipping tea and reading the Daily Prophet as if she was a normal witch. I sat across from her, held my chin high and my jaw set. She looked at me uncertainly over the Prophet.

"Morning, Cissy."

"Bella."

Her thick lips nearly frowned. "Are you alright, Cissy."

I raised an eyebrow. "Quite fine. I had excellent healing potions."

"I see." She dropped the Prophet and some façade fell with it. "Cissy…I don't know what to say…"

"Nothing." My clipped tone furrowed her brow. "Just listen for once, Bella." I needed this out before Draco appeared and before my confidence waned. "What you did to me last night was unconscionable. Unfortunately I find myself in a situation that prevents me from meting out proper justice. But understand. If you harm me again – or my son – in any way during your tenure under my roof, I will personally fall before the Dark Lord and tell him you both witnessed and brokered my vow with Severus, and that you intentionally kept it secret." Her eyes widened and mouth opened. I held up a halting hand. "I've nothing to lose. My husband is already destroyed and my son approaches destruction quickly. It would be nothing to me – _nothing_ – to slit Draco's throat before slitting my own if it meant saving his soul."

Magic hummed in my belly. Bella was shaking just slightly. "Do you believe me?" I asked her. She barely nodded, eyes almost fearful. The way to Bella's heart was through her Master. "I would think it my duty as a mother," I continued, laying a napkin across my lap, "to take my most precious and perfect possession out of the clutches of this soiled world."

She swallowed. "The Dark Lord would kill you, Cissy, for such a betrayal before you had time to lift a knife. You would doom us all."

"Doom," I muttered, buttering a scone. "Preferable to being touched by you again, sister."

Was it possible her eyes moistened? Could Bella be hurt? Did she still have feelings? I looked up at a sound and smiled brightly. "Good morning, son."

"Mother." He dropped into his father's chair, a gesture not unnoticed by myself. "Aunt Bella." His lip curled when he said her name.

With my serious threat out of the way, Bella decided it was time to begin her antagonization for the day. "Came to wake you for practice, Draco…but you must have already been up." I felt her eyes on me. Draco ignored her comment and poured his tea. "Or perhaps you slept elsewhere last night?"

"Perhaps." I admired his general apathy. It seemed he was learning to handle her – perhaps better than I, even.

She appeared unswayed. "We'll work on your shielding today. You're slow."

"Fine." He snapped into a rasher of bacon.

"Cissy, perhaps you'd like to join us? You seemed a bit…out of practice last night."

Draco leapt from the table, grabbing a rasher to go. "I'll meet you in the courtyard, Aunt Bella. Whenever you're ready."

Watching my son depart, I realized he had defused a situation quite smoothly. Obviously, he recognized Bella's animosity. He was sparing me the continued irritation of her taunting him. He'd grown very perceptive. I wondered what else he perceived of late.

"You've raised a complete prat."

"You treat him disrespectfully," I snapped at her. "You'll find him far more agreeable if you give him his due. After all, he is the Dark Lord's chosen assassin, is he not?" She scowled. I pressed further, feeling reckless and resentful. "Why not you, Bella?"

"His Lordship is giving your son a chance to reconcile your family name, Cissy!"

"My family?" I tensed. "My family is your family, sister. This family is Lucius' family. He has left me no notion to suggest otherwise."

"So it's all Lucius' fault, then!" Bella shouted. She rose jerkily from the table, but leaned into my face. "You married him."

"The choice was hardly mine! And you know that!"

"So it's mummy and daddy's fault, too?" She scoffed. "How dare they make all your decisions for you. Bollocks! How dare you let them?"

"Damn it, Bella – "

"Stand up for yourself, Cissy. Last night was a good start. And I admit you had me over a barrel this morning. But take my advice…grow some balls and stop relying on others to fight your battles and make your decisions. For soon there may be no one left for you to manipulate." That said, she left me staring at the space she'd just inhabited, thinking despite myself.

The remaining days of summer grew hot and heavy. Draco and Bella maintained a strained, reluctant peace. They 'practiced' every day. I often heard them outside the library windows, volleying spells and hexes at each other. Bella proudly announced at supper one evening that Draco's shielding had approached nearly impenetrable, and my son swelled at the compliment.

On a particularly balmy Wednesday afternoon, Bella burst into the drawing room where I sat reading. "He's done it!" She announced, breathless and excited. Her cheeks were pink and she smiled a haughty, genuine smile.

It frightened me. "Done what?" I lay my book aside on the chaise, ignored my pounding heart.

Straightening proudly, she replied: "Aveda Kedavra." As if they were words to be tossed about casually.

My gut clenched and breath caught. "Oh." It wasn't so much a response as a sound that happened to escape my mouth. Did I want to know? "On…on who?" The question was barely audible.

Bella laughed boisterously and dropped onto the lounge at my feet. "Not yet, Cissy. Just a peacock for now. And believe me – that was work." She sighed tiredly. "I believe he's gone to have a rest, in fact." She grabbed my toe. "I told him he'd earned it."

I jerked my foot away. Draco loved those birds…they'd followed him around when he was a child. Many of them had grown up with him. I reminded myself again not to cry before her. Not ever. "Well," I said. "I'm glad your tutelage has benefited him."

Once more she reached for my foot. It wasn't worth the effort. I let her have it. She removed my slipper and began to rub expertly. "Still mad at me, Cissy?"

"Mad?" I was incredulous. "Bella…" I gestured helplessly at her. "You…you _raped_ me! I hope you don't believe a foot massage will vindicate such an action."

She was looking darkly at my foot, not at me. Her ministrations slowed and lightened, became lazy tickles. "Ugly word…rape."

I blushed. "It was an ugly action."

I gasped when she lifted my foot to her mouth. She kissed my big toe, then I watched her lips wrap wholly around the appendage. Her tongue dipped into the creases as she suckled each toe thoroughly. The feeling was…sickening...no, electric... I couldn't deny that, and when her rich eyes met mine from underneath the shadow of her messy hair, she saw the affect plain on my face. "Uglier than son and mother sharing a bed? Every evening?"

"It's not like that, Bella!" _And it's because of you…_

My pinky toe received a suggestive swirl before she released it. "What _can _I do to vindicate myself, Cissy?" Her fingers stroked from the arch of my foot over my ankle, tracing the detailed bones there.

"Stop," I managed.

One final kiss to my instep and she let go. "I'm off then." Where she disappeared to I didn't know, didn't really care. My exhalation shuddered. I'd been holding my breath.

Draco had taken to my bed exclusively these last weeks, so it was no surprise when I found him there that evening. "Son!"

He was sitting on the edge of my bed, bent and holding his wand between his knees. I hurried to him, quickly warding the door first. I dropped to my knees before him. "Are you alright?" The skin of his forehead and face was cool to my touch.

He shook his head. "It was…terrible." His face began to collapse. "I can't…."

Hope and despair welled in me at once. I grasped him to me, pulling him to the floor. "Then don't!"

"I have to!" He wailed. "Or they'll kill you! And they'll kill me!"

So that was it. They'd threatened him. A new, deeper hatred for the Dark Lord sprung into my heart. How fucking brave they were, his loyal followers – threatening a boy to do their bidding. They were capable, of course. I knew the truth, now. Other than my deranged sister, none of them were willing to taint their souls with the blood of a good wizard.

"Oh, Draco," I whispered into his baby fine hair. I wished I could tell him about Severus, wished I could offer him that solace, that guarantee. As it was, I could only coo and rock him. "It will be alright, son… I promise." I kissed his temple. Pushed him back and kissed his forehead. Kissed the bridge of his nose. His cheek. His other cheek. His lips…

Somehow, when I kissed his lips, I couldn't stop. They were so full and soft – the top one his father's and the bottom one mine. I kissed just that bottom lip, leaving Draco to suck at my top one. I was hardly aware he had shifted, had pulled me onto his thighs until I felt a peculiar hardness pressing my belly. He groaned and I gasped.

_Oh, gods! _"No!" I pushed him away.

He stared at me, a wildness in his wet eyes. "What the hell…" He muttered.

I brought my hand to my lips, trying to quell the tingle there. "Draco, I'm sorry."

He stood, a vacant expression taking over his face. A wave dismissed my apology. "Stress," he said. "We're going insane." He was unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off. "Soon, we'll bloody well be just like her."

I sat on the floor still, looking up at him from my haunches. He held his hand out to me. I saw his Dark Mark. "Get up, mother. Come on to bed." He pulled me to my feet. I stood slightly stunned as I watched him slip into his pajama pants. His snapping the duvet down spurred me to action.

In the lavatory, I put on my nightgown and brushed my teeth. He'd slept in the same bed with me for weeks, seen me in every nightgown I owned. Why did I suddenly feel so exposed?

My reflection above the sink raised an eyebrow. _You kissed your son._ I put my open hand flat over the face staring back at me, mocking me. "Shut up," I hissed. She peeked between my spread fingers. I saw the corner of her mouth quirk upward. _You liked it. _I shook my head. "A mistake!" She chuckled, a low, sensual sound I couldn't remember being capable of. _Still think you're better than your sister?_

"Fuck you!" I spun away from the mirror. I climbed into bed with my son. The surreality of our situation settled on my bare shoulders. He was right. We were going as crazy as Bella…

"Mother."

I looked over at him. Moonlight silvered his hair and eyes. He was like a long, lean sprite. "Yes, Draco?"

"I'm back at Hogwarts in less than two weeks now."

I nodded. "I know."

"Will you be alright? Alone here with her?"

I nodded again. "Will you be alright? Alone there at school?" I thought of Severus.

"I'll be fine, mother." He touched my face. "I'll miss you."

I turned away from him, looked up at the canopy. "I'll miss you, too, son." Hands over my eyes, I let myself cry. For my son, my humiliation at my sister's hands, for my loneliness… Selfishly, I cried.

The mattress shifted. I felt my son take my hands in his, pull them away from my eyes. "Stop," he said. "Please don't cry, mother. I can't bear it."

He was so close… I felt suffocated and hot. Our hands scrambled in the dimness til mine were pushing at his chest but his were pulling at my head. "It's too _much_, Draco!"

"I _know_!" He shouted back at me. "And something has to give." Then he kissed me again, this time firmly, purposefully. I felt the tears on his face mingling with my own. I tasted tears on his lips, in his mouth. He kissed hungrily, awkwardly and desperately. My traitorous body responded with eagerness, pressing against him, encouraging the hurried hands undressing me.

_My son. _His fingers were curious and gentle, the touches making me camber into them. _My son._ The bedclothes sussed and fussed around our legs as Draco impatiently worked down his pants. "Oh, gods," I whined against his lips. He pressed a generous hardness into me… _My son._ I was tender. He sensed it, and nuzzled me, calmed me.

He moved with some confidence, showed a remarkable stamina. This was not his first time. The knowledge comforted me. He experimented with angles until I was gasping pleasure. His elbow bent up aside my face and he pulled one of my clinging arms from his shoulders, urging it between us. "Touch yourself," he growled. "Please."

I'd never… But he'd asked, so I did. Hesitantly, my fingers encountered my own wetness. My eyes closed and head tilted back. I felt my toes curl at the delicious sensations, the tension in me. Oh, a little more…

I must have spoken aloud. Draco responded against my ear, voice strained. "I'll give you everything. You already have it. It's all for you."

More than any physicality, his words sent me over the edge. I came apart hard, couldn't seem to stop in fact. It was nearly embarrassing how little I knew my own body. Terrifying that my son had unearthed my most sensual secrets.

I'd only begun to recover when he met my eyes urgently. "Can I come inside you?"

Could he? My brain was hazy…yes. The potion. "Yes," I rasped.

"So good." He wrapped his arms tightly around me. "Hold me." Helplessly I clutched him. He stared intensely into my wide, frightened eyes. I watched his pleasure unfold on his face, felt the spurting flood of it inside me.

Our bodies slowed. I hadn't even realized mine was still moving, but he must have been undulating me with him. Our sticky sweat mingled, foreheads pressed together. "Draco," I whispered. Or perhaps I sobbed.

"Sshh." He kissed me. "Not now. Let's not speak now." He rolled us so I lay against his side.

I stroked his cooling chest with my fingers. "I'll be right back." He let me go, passed me my rumpled gown. In the lav, I sat on the toilet, shaking. I dared not look in the mirror. That woman would be there, accusing me. _Slave for your sister. Slut for your son. What are you for yourself?_

I dropped my head into my hands. I was a dirty thing, in a dirty world. And at that moment, I saw no way out…


	6. Time Be Utterly Lost

The Hands of the Sisters

_Time Be Utterly Lost_

The last days of summer, the days just before Draco would return to Hogwarts as an assassin, we spent in hiding. As often as possible, my son and I were together. He 'practiced' with Bella, and we ate in her presence. Death Eaters came and went. The Dark Lord came and went. Even my sister seemed to come and go, both physically and emotionally. She was distracted by something, and Draco and I took full advantage of that.

Three nights before he was to go back to school, I spoke to him in the darkness of our shared bed. "What are we doing?" My words were muffled by his breastbone. I was pressed into his side, an arm draped across his belly. He was glistening with a sheen of cooling sweat.

"I don't know," he answered. Then he laughed ruefully. "Looking for sanctity?"

"And are we sanctified, then?"

"Hell, no." He kissed the top of my head. "But satisfied, yes."

"It can't continue." My words cleaved my heart.

His lips tightened against my hairline. "We'll see."

I sighed. I could live forever believing we were safe this way, and I liked to lose myself in the moments when we _were _this way, when time was simply lost all together, when I didn't feel this uncertainty had taken me over. "I want to go with you," I said softly. "To get the cabinet. To see you off to school."

His long, strong hand cupped my shoulder. "Let's go a day early. Get the hell away from here. We'll stay in Diagon Alley for a night."

Only if for a night… He knew I would not deny the request. That I would give nearly anything to be out of the confines of my own home, away from Bella's watchful eye and Voldemort's chilling disregard. "Alright." I kissed over his heartbeat, the precious tattoo I slept by.

How would I sleep without it?

At breakfast, it was Draco who informed Bella of our plan. He was concise and non-negotiable. "Mother's coming with me to Borgin and Burke's. Tomorrow. We'll stay in Diagon Alley and I'll head to King's Cross from there." He shrugged, not meeting her narrow-eyed stare. "Simpler that way." He buttered a scone.

The narrowed eyes cut to me. I sipped my tea, nervous.

"I assume you know I'll be there, as well," she said. "The Dark Lord wants a few of his more _knowledgeable_ to see the cabinet. See what repairs it needs."

Draco nodded. "I know. Just wanted you to know we wouldn't be returning here tomorrow night."

Her lips pursed. "I'm not certain how the Dark Lord would feel – "

"My mother is losing her mind in this house. She's worried for me and wants to see me off to school. The Dark Lord can bloody well give her that much." He looked at her squarely.

Bella's brows jumped up. "I won't speak for Him."

"He doesn't care." Draco insisted. "You do. Why? Think we'll make a run for it?"

"Runs in the family," she replied. "Andy. Regulus. Sirius. All those blood traitors."

"You'll find no traitors here, Aunt Bella." Draco dabbed his mouth with a mint green serviette. His eyes flicked briefly to mine. I read triumph there. "I'll see you in the courtyard later?"

She watched him leave the dining room with a surprised smirk. "Really become quite the man of the house, hasn't he, Cissy."

I leaned tiredly back in my chair. "He's worried for me."

"He's getting stronger," she said. "He's starting to feel his true power. His promise. The Dark Lord is impressed. And pleased, Cissy."

Her fanatical talk had become more frequent. I fought the urge to seize up whenever I heard it. It was too strong a reminder that something awful loomed, that war was on its way, and time – no matter how many stolen moments there might be – had no intention of halting.

She was right, however, about Draco growing stronger. Even I felt it, saw it. The hardening of his soft grey eyes to silver, the set of his shoulders, the growing intensity of his love-making. He was preparing to soldier. My belly went heavy. I had not yet prepared to let go. And now it was too late.

I pushed away from the table. "Excuse me, sister." Her hand was a talon on my bare arm as I nearly brushed past her.

"Cissy," she hissed.

I looked down at her. But it wasn't anger or envy or madness I saw in her eyes. It was gentleness. She tugged my wrist to her lips, kissed at my pulse point. Spoke against the thin skin there. "I will be here for you, Cissy. After Draco's gone. I know you're afraid of the Dark Lord – of the rest of us." She referred of course to the Death Eaters currently using my house as a headquarters. "But I promise you. I won't let anything happen to you."

Her thumbs massaged the inside of my palm. She kissed my fingers one by one. I let those fingers stroke the side of her face, the sharp jut of her jaw. "I know, Belle."

If there was ever a light in Bella, it was at that moment. Her face brightened and something like a smile graced her lips. "I promise," she repeated.

I nodded. It was true. Soon, she would be all I had between me and the darkness descending. And honestly, I didn't care for those odds.

That night, they met. Twenty or so dark figures congregated at our dining table. Draco was among them, seated between Bella and Severus. Odd, I thought. But he looked so composed, then, so confident. Perhaps it was just the comparisons surrounding him – Bella's fervent stare and Severus' blank one.

I peered in from the doorway. I was unnecessary here. I was turning to leave when I caught Severus' glance. I flushed. So, so subtly, his head inclined toward Draco. Then his eyes were back on his master. But I felt hope re-blossom bashfully in my bosom. I understood his message clearly. He was watching.

I went to bed. All there was now was waiting. They would disperse soon enough. I would hear their whooshing departures. The house would quiet again. Bella and her Dark Lord would talk well into the night. Draco would come to bed and I would know then – whether it had been bad or good.

Bad – he would wake me and fuck me. Good – he would kiss his way up my body and make love to me. I always hoped for good, but more often than not bad had left me wanting in the moonlight and sore in the sun's shine. I slipped into a shift and climbed into the light summer duvet.

It was after midnight that night. I felt his hands drift across my back, his lips touch my shoulders. Drowsy, I turned to him. "Draco…"

"Sshhh." He kissed me softly. "Sleep. We leave early tomorrow." Then he shifted me the way he wanted me, my back to his front, and dropped an arm around my waist. We slept heavily.

Diagon Alley was a blur, really. We rushed about with Draco's school preparations. The ugly encounter with Potter and the mudblood girl was…difficult. Potter's attitude toward Draco wouldn't make this year's task any easier. I was…overly defensive. Wands drawn in a silly witch's robe shop. Draco laughed about it over lunch. I was finally cooled enough to join him.

"The Dark Lord would have been very upset, mother, if you had killed Potter today in Madam Malkin's."

I tried to smile. It felt like a grimace. Draco's foot nudged mine beneath the table. "Hey. Let's go have an ice cream." The gesture was sweet, really. We always went for ice cream when we visited Diagon Alley. He knew I was dreading seven o'clock and Borgin and Burke's.

Admittedly the little tradition was an enjoyable distraction, but I barely tasted my caramel sundae. And suddenly, we were dodging through half-lit streets, ducking into shadows and glancing over our shoulders as we made our way through Knockturn Alley. Yet _still_ I felt watched somehow…

Bella and Greyback fell into step beside us just outside of Borgin and Burke's. Even under their heavy dark cloaks, I recognized them: Bella's jerking gait and Greyback's rancid stench. The shop was as dusty and dank as I remembered it. The cabinet was no exception, but Draco circled it almost tenderly, caressed it nearly the way he caressed me.

He spoke in hushed tones with the shriveled old shopkeeper and finally, I was summoned to his side. The price for a broken cabinet was exorbitant to say the least, but I didn't flinch. It was needed. I heard Draco take a shaky breath. "Anything else, son?" I whispered.

He shook his head. We were close, bodies just brushing. His fingers secretly stroked the back of my hand. Bella and Greyback loudly argued over transporting the cabinet. I reached for Draco's face. He bent to me, and I kissed his cheek. "Soon."

His jaw clenched beneath my lips and he nodded tightly. We left before Bella and the werewolf, seeking to draw as little attention as possible. Again in the dark and dodgy streets, we moved with purpose. The percussive patter of my heels on cobblestone sped tempo alongside my heart. And Draco was almost a full step ahead of me each time, pulling me by my arm.

Diagon Alley was wide awake at nearly half of nine o' clock. Faces morphed into fleshy globules as people passed us by. Conversation and bustle slowed to a muted slur. Or I simply hadn't the inclination to notice anything but the determined sway of my son's back before me, leading us to a safe haven from the night.

I had chosen the Dancing Dragon. It was the hotel I always wanted to stay at – the one Lucius insisted was gaudy and preposterous. My husband preferred the dark, permanent drear of the Rook and Raven. My son didn't give a damn where we stayed so long as there was a bed and I was beneath him on it. Or above him. Or any number, really, of variations we had recently discovered.

The lobby of the Dancing Dragon was everything I had imagined. Marble floors, gilded murals and lofty ceilings supporting golden chandeliers.

A witch was working the front desk. Young. As blonde as Draco with possibly shorter hair. The tag on her neat black vest read "Angel." I suspected a misnomer. She had striking, dancing blue eyes. I only noticed because they flirted with me during the entire check-in process. I was a bit flabbergasted and Draco was…scowling.

"Malfoy," Angel murmured as she wrote some information in her ledger. "French?"

"Oui," I replied. Draco sighed heavily.

"Nice," she said, glancing up. "Beautiful literature. I love the French language."

"Que vous faites?" I asked. She smiled disarmingly.

"What's French for 'can we get a bloody move on, here?'" Draco asked. Her smile fell. I gave a sympathetic shrug. I nearly pitied my son the glare she gave him.

"One room?" She asked, drawing a key from beneath the ornate desk. "Or two?" She withdrew another key, and looked pointedly at me.

"One," Draco said firmly.

"Two, please," I purred. We spoke at the same time. The witch regarded us as we regarded each other. "I thought my growing son would value his privacy," I hedged. Surely he recognized how strange it would seem.

"Fine." He snatched a dangling key from the cheeky witch and was off, taking the mahogany spiral stairs two at a time.

"They're so impatient at that age," Angel reflected.

I looked at her askance as I took my key. "I doubt you are terribly far from such impatience, yourself."

"Chronologically? Yes." She replied smoothly. "Emotionally? No." Another smile. "If you need _anything _tonight, Mrs. Malfoy…you just floo me."

Her charm was a nice respite. I admired her obvious boldness. "I will…Angel."

A numbness settled over me as I climbed the stairs. Third floor. _He leaves tomorrow. _Room 42. _He's to kill Dumbledore._ The magical key barely touched the bronze lock. _If he's captured – like his father – they'll kill him. _The door swung open. _He may be killed before he leaves Hogwarts – Potter would do it! _I pushed the door closed behind me, but it was violently stopped by my son's foot.

I gasped as he pushed past me. The door slammed closed. I slammed against it and my son slammed against me. "Enjoy flirting, mum?"

I could hardly answer with his tongue in my mouth. His hands were close to tearing my clothes off. I melted into his eagerness, his passion. This pure wanting made surrender palatable. I was not idle. My hands, weak with desire, tugged at his jacket, plucked at his buttons. Like dancers, we established a rhythm, a smooth exchange, until we stood naked in a swaddled pile of clothing.

Draco devoured my neck. His hands skated my body. I held his head, just following his mouth's ministrations and trying desperately to make my wobbly knees support me. "I want you so much," he gasped. I whimpered. "What will I do without you?" He asked.

I pressed my body against him, urged him backwards – to the enormous bed in the center of the room. Plush carpet sucked at my toes. My son's mouth sucked at my breasts. His erection nudged my belly and we fell into silken extravagance.

We tumbled and rolled restlessly, still kissing, the bedclothes cooling our overheated skin. We were at a bit of a diagonal when Draco finally pinned me. He paused our snog to stare into my eyes. "You'll not sleep tonight," he promised. "D'you know that?"

Breathless, I nodded. I tasted some blood on the inside of my lip – mine or his. He traveled down my body and opened me up with demanding fingers. I hissed at the first touch of his tongue to my swollen folds, bit my bottom lip to draw more blood.

"Let me hear you," he said.

I raised up. In the dim light of a purple room, his face was shadowed. "Wha…"

"We're not at home." His tongue swiped. I bucked. "Let me really hear you."

He was right. It was freeing, crying out my true abandon while his fingers and mouth worked me. He was a tease – a sinful master of delectation. My fingers clutched his silky hair. I bucked against his mouth, slid my curling toes across his back and the bedclothes. It was amazing…

And suddenly he was over me, pushing into me. I shouted. "I can't wait," he panted. "Don't stop, mother. Tell me I make you feel good!"

"Oh, Draco!"

"Tell me I give you this one thing," he growled. I heard tears somewhere in his voice. "Tell me I do one damned thing right!"

It was as much his pleasure as his pleas that kept me grunting, shouting. If he wasn't fucking me so well, I would have held him like a babe, perhaps; kissed his brow and reminded him of my pride, my unconditional love, my motherly devotion. As it was, all I could do was cling to him and scream as my body absorbed him like a hungry tide, and he emptied himself into my abyss.

With hot, immediate desire slaked, time could slow again. Still inside me, Draco rolled me atop him, holding me, cosseting me with lazy hands. I propped on my elbows and looked at his face. "You are my all, son," I whispered, stroked his temples with my thumbs. "You can do no wrong in my eyes."

"If I murder a wizard, even?"

I kissed him. Couldn't tell him. "You won't."

He huffed. Pushed at me. "Let's have a bath."

I smiled. The bath chamber was as green as the boudoir was purple. Swirl patterns in the wall brought to mind deep eddies and currents. The tap on the porcelain tub was a silver octopus, tentacles becoming dials to control water flow and temperature. An array of bubbles, fizzes and various potions hung in shell baskets from the tub rim. I selected one called Mermaid's Tears that turned the bath cerulean and smelled of mint and salt.

When I stood, I saw Draco leaning in the doorway watching me. "Sometimes…I can't believe you're my mother," he said.

I slid into the roiling water and gestured to the rack of fluffy flannels near him. He brought two. "I assure you I am."

"I know." He settled in behind me, schooched me forward and began soaping my back as I bundled my hair up with a snake clip. "You won't let Bella bully you when I'm gone."

I shook my head. He worried for _me_? "No, Draco. You'll…watch out for Potter. At school?"

"Yes." A kiss landed on my nape. "What will we do, mother? If they really return father? If I actually succeed in this…task?"

I worried my lips. Couldn't think of it, even. "I don't know."

"Is this some…phase?" He asked. He hefted my breasts in both hands, tugged my sensitive nipples. "Will it end?"

He expected me to have answers. "Draco, I don't know!" I didn't quite keep the edge from my voice and the fact he was interrogating me while his hand wandered down my belly wasn't making thought come easily.

I gasped when he fingered me, sucked my earlobe. "You're so slick," he murmured. "Feels strange in the water." I fussed like a slut, gripped the curve of the tub's lip. "Do you like this?"

I assumed he referred to the finger massaging my spasming slit. "Yes," I managed.

"I want to remember everything." The finger dipped inside, curled. "Every way you respond. I want to have it in my head clear as a pensieve." The bath water sloshed onto the aquamarine tile. A wet, strong hand turned my face. Teeth tugged my bottom lip. "I'll miss you."

I struggled to turn my body toward him. "I'll miss you, too." Our mouths sealed, hands held and explored. Water surged, and again time sped. Clean enough, we dried each other with enormous plush towels and ardently staggered back to bed.

Draco had turned down the sheets. Once between them, he could have taken me again, but I was aroused to the point of insensitivity. I bought some time by taking him in my mouth and he didn't complain. I had learned from recent experience that having a teen-aged lover meant second rounds and those second rounds could be…endurance trials. And if he planned on thirds or fourths tonight, he would have to give me breaks.

Not that I was complaining. If he was right – gods help us – and this was to be our last evening together, whether forever or for a while, I would give him all of me and any pleasure I knew.

Fellatio was never an activity I looked forward to. With Lucius, it was more a matter of quick endings to unsatisfactory beginnings. But with this hedonistic fruit sprung from my own loins, I was dizzy with the act's power. Draco pitched, moaned and bucked like a centaur. He cursed, hissed and mumbled dangerous incoherencies. I experimented with swirls, pressure variances, hand twists and gentle tooth-scrapes. He called me foul things that fell like endearments on my ears, and soon enough was jerking me up by my elbows into the pillows.

"Enough," he growled. And Draco believed in reciprocity. I braced against the ornately carved headboard while his tongue delved and drove me to the brink just to back me off again. It was scrupulous suffering. He stoked the numbness to a burn and I begged for release as I never had before, promised him anything if he would just let me come…

But he pulled away, cast off the too warm duvet and maneuvered my thighs to accept his hips. "This way, witch. We come together." He swallowed my cries in his mouth and I felt his groans reverberate down my throat. I was wound tight – his fault – and I knew it threatened his stamina.

So he slowed to languorous pumps, occasional pauses and the honeyed undulations that ground his pelvis into my clit and made me keen. I clutched him. We kissed and talked nonsense, gasped prayers, sang those bedroom hymns…

And the second round was as I'd anticipated. When Draco neared the precipice, he smoothly switched positions, taking in every imaginable fashion. Finally, he gave in. I was frothing and on my side, one leg curled over his and his cock deep in me at an impossible angle. It felt beyond good, and I needed to come – badly.

"Please, Draco," I panted. "Please. Like this."

"Fuck, yes," he answered. He was glorious in droplets of sweat. Awkwardly I reached up his chest, slicked my hand to his face as the helix coiled tighter. He licked my palm, pulled my leg a bit higher. "Come," he demanded. "I need to see it." His hips increased the pace while his eyes burned through mine.

I couldn't have resisted, fractured open under his gaze and grip. I kept my face to the shaft of light for him to see, didn't hide the most certainly pained expression of ecstasy. He was quick to follow me into the void, clutching my thigh painfully and tossing his head.

"Yes!" He shouted triumphantly. His final thrusts hurt. I gasped. "Mmmph." He slipped easily out of me and lowered my tingling leg. "Too good," he said, falling into the feather mattress.

Shakily, I rolled into him, into a sticky, exhausted embrace. I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Don't sleep." He nudged me. "I'm not done with you."

He couldn't be serious. "What?"

A kiss to my forehead and he was up, headed to the loo. "I said I'm not done with you," he called. "I'm going to get some food. Hungry?"

"A bit."

"Good." He emerged from the lavatory rubbing at the back of his neck. "You look pretty when you're well-fucked, you know that?" He said the sweetest things… He picked up our clothes from the floor and barely dressed himself, slipping his shoes onto sockless feet. "You need some fruit or something. I'll be back."

I blinked at the door for a moment after he'd left, then fell into the pillows and heaved a great breath. If I survived this night, a house filled with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord should be a breeze.

"Told you not to sleep."

"Hm." I roused blearily. He was naked again and semi-erect, offering me a slice of pear. "Goddess help me," I murmured and sat up. He'd procured a tray of fruit and some sandwiches.

"Wine?" He held out a bottle. "It's sweet, whatever it is."

I looked at it. A riesling. I tipped it and sipped it. A good riesling. The sandwiches were good, too – rye and mustard and flaky turkey. Or I was starving. Perhaps both. We ate on the bed, not caring at all about crumbs. I excused myself to the loo, and Draco took his wand to the mess.

I returned to candlelight and my naked son on his knees in the center of the bed. For a moment, I just smiled at him and shook my head. "Where did you get the candles?"

"Knicked them from the dining hall downstairs." I climbed into his arms. He laid me back tenderly. "D'you like them?"

My exhausted body awoke to his touch and his kisses. "I love them," I answered. "I love this night."

"Me too, mother."

We made love until the candles burned down. I'm ashamed to say it was the best sex I'd ever had. And when he finally let me sleep, I did so wrapped in his arms and with a smile on my face.

But I woke panicking in an empty bed. Had he left? I sat up and rubbed my eyes. They burned from sweat.

"Good morning." He stood in the door of the loo, neat and dressed.

Morning… "What time?"

"Seven."

"Oh." My heart sunk. I started to swing out of bed.

"Mother."

I yawned and stretched. "Yes?"

"I want to go alone. To King's Cross."

"Oh." I sat back into the mattress. There was no reason to hide my tears – for Merlin's sake I was naked – but I put my hands over my face and cried. Draco came and knelt before me.

"Don't." He pulled at my hands. "Please don't. Or…just wait til I've gone. Mother, please."

I sniffled and pawed at my face. Embarrassing display, really. "Draco."

He tugged me to my feet and wrapped me tight in his arms. "I love you. I will be fine. And I will see you come holidays if I can."

"If you can?" My heart pounded.

"I'll do my best." He clutched me tighter for just a moment. "And I'll owl. Often."

I gripped his upper arms desperately. "Promise."

"I promise." He kissed my forehead, my closed eyes and my lips.

I held his head. "Let me dress and at least see you to the lobby."

"No." He shook his head. "I have to leave this. And I want to remember you like this." The back of his hand brushed over my nipple. "Please understand."

I choked on my tears and nodded. His hands cradled my head and he tilted it for a lingering kiss, a pretty, delicate kiss. I closed my eyes and leaned into it, felt him release my head, separate from my body. I didn't open my eyes until the door closed.

I stood in the empty that smelled of candlewax and sex. I listened to the silence encroaching and sat heavily on the edge of the destroyed bed. My toes curled into the plush carpeting. I looked down at them and felt tears on my face. No one to see me, no one to hear me…

I clutched a pillow to me and wailed into it. _What have I become? My son – my lover – and gods how did that happen – off to become evil's assassin. How do I love him this way? What is wrong in my mind? Bella is a contagion. She's infected me with her poisonous lust. Poor Draco – he'll be ruined. I've ruined him. He's ruined me! We'll die in this mess one way or another… And if Lucius should return? And my son? _

I groaned into the pillow. Unimaginable. _To be a cuckolding wife with the husband's own seed? A whore mother? _"No!" I shouted aloud, beat my fists against the mattress and sat up.

I pushed my hair from my wet face, wiped my nose with my arm. _Just insanity – a temporary insanity. We will be better now. My son and I. Mother and son again – no more. He will forget. I will…try to forget. _More tears threatened. I pressed my fingers to my eyes and stopped them weeping. _Must I forget? _I went to the loo and bathed. I scrubbed myself pink. Washed my hair – something was dried in it and matted.

I was disgusting. _A disgusting thing._ In the mirror, I saw marks. My neck, my chest, my belly…my thighs? My wand was on the floor by the door. I rushed for it and set to work on the scratches and purple bites. _Like animals… _One last check showed me I was clear.

My skirt and jacket got freshening charms. I didn't bother about the wrinkles. They didn't show so well on black. My hair was a quick enough fix. I'd found my snake clip on the floor. I'd brought no make-up, but I didn't truly need it. I was pale with a high pink in my cheeks that might last for some time. And the pink deepened when I recalled…

_No. Go back home, witch. And forget. Back to the manor just like always…like every other time he's left before. He'll be safe. Severus will watch over him._

I snapped my purse closed, slipped into my chunky heels. The temptation was there, to look back, to give the room we'd shared a final glance. But I didn't. I opened the door and walked out. I walked down the hall with my chin high, shoulders squared. Down the stairs.

A long line of elaborate floos beckoned from my right. _Back home. Back to Bella and the Dark Lord and the masked faces that mock me. _I stepped into one, automatically took a handful of powder. "Malfoy Manor."

Green flames engulfed me, but I didn't feel the travel. When I stepped out of the floo in my drawing room, Bella was waiting.

**Author's Notes: **_I just love italics, don't you? Thanks dear dragon for the advice and encouragement - to the Lady Bellatrix Black for her patience (I will give you all the Bella you can handle next chapter, I promise:-), to BeautifulDisaster and Lilian and SapphoAndCyanide and unicorn33 and Shana and Greyella - you are wonderful for reading and reviewing. I shall write you all into my last will and testament. Also I must thank musicians for this ongoing process: Florence + the Machine, Portishead, The YeahYeahYeah's, Air and The Dresden Dolls._


	7. Beautiful as the Sky

The Hands of the Sisters

_Beautiful as the Sky_

The heavy hangings over the drawing room windows were cast open. Sunlight flooded in. I glanced toward the windows, saw the blue sky in the distance. It was such a clear day.

Bella had fired to her feet when I stepped from the floo. Now she stood before me with her wide eyes just staring. "Cissy?" It took my step forward to spur her step forward. "Oh, oh, oh," she chanted, took me in her arms.

Numb, exhausted, I let her coddle me. "My poor flower," she cooed. She stroked my hair. _This is the woman who raped me. _Tears came, anyway.

"Oh, Bella." She was there. I wrapped my arms around her realness, took in the slightly smoky smell of her hair, the sun-warmed skin of her bare shoulders.

"Hush, sweetness." She rubbed my back firmly. The stiff cups of her corset pressed into my sensitive chest. "My poor pet." Her wand hilt, tucked into her skirt, jabbed my rib. "You look as if you've not slept a wink. Come. Let's get you resting."

She ushered me from the room gently. Down the hall, I heard raucous voices and looked curiously toward them. "The Dark Lord," Bella whispered. "Rodolphus and some others."

"Rodolphus?" I didn't know Bella's husband was freed from Azkaban.

"Mm." She shrugged as if she could give a whit for her husband's presence.

"Is he well?" I asked on the stairs.

"I assume so." She tugged me down the hall to my room. "I haven't seen him properly yet." She closed my doors and turned down my bedding. I stood like a mannequin watching her. "Draco off safely?"

"Yes."

She nodded. She was unbuttoning my jacket. "Bella!" I slapped her hands away.

"Sorry! Sorry." Her hands were raised in surrender and she backed off.

I removed my own jacket, hung it over the door of my wardrobe. "Thank you," I told her. "Will you wake me for dinner, please?" I ached for aloneness.

Her hands fluttered a moment. "Of course, Cissy." I nodded. "I'm worried for you…"

I waved her off. "No need. I'm fine."

"Well, then…" She paused in my open door. "I suppose I'll leave you."

I walked into my lavatory. Moments later, I heard the door close and knew she was finally gone. I stripped myself and slipped into a silk chemise. It was warm in my room. In the mirror, I took in my bloodshot eyes. No wonder she'd worried. I was a noticeable mess. I would simply have to do better than this. If the sharks got even a hint of blood in the water…

I climbed heavily into my bed. It smelled like my son – like sex – and I couldn't stop from inhaling deeply. Tears stung again. I clutched his pillow and curled around it like some desperate thing. _Oh, Draco. _I wept until the pillow was disgusting and pushed it from me. Why did it feel like I was slipping away?

Apparently, I'd slipped into sleep. I woke sometime to late afternoon sun, and the oddest feeling… Bella lay beside me, and her fingers were at my bare back, tugging gently at just the ends of my long hair. It created the strangest soothing sensation on my scalp. I couldn't contain a little sound of appreciation.

She smiled. "Feel good?" I nodded. "I did this in Azkaban. To myself. Sometimes it helped me sleep."

I smiled back at her. Must have been the exhaustion making me weak. "I suppose that's why all your ends are split now." I reached toward a curl of her own hair laying between us. Bella flinched. "Sorry," I whispered.

Bella's fingers wrapped around mine. "Cissy." She looked so lost, so wretched.

"What?" Her fingertips sported old, thick calluses that were softening now.

"Please. Please, forgive me."

I rolled away from her, folded my pillow around my head. "Bella!" I didn't want to hear this, discuss this. I didn't want to bloody _think_ at the moment.

But she scrambled to her knees and grappled for my hands. "Please, Cissy! Please just listen to me! Please." She straddled my leg.

My fingers itched to touch my wand on the side table. "Bella." I growled warningly.

But she stopped my mouth with her hand. "Nonono," she babbled. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just bloody _listen_!"

When she removed her hand, I settled. My breaths were uneven and I lay my hands across my chest protectively. "I'm listening," I said.

"I was wrong to hurt you," Bella hissed. "But I want you to know _why_. Why I can't seem to not want you, to not want to be _near_ you, Cissy!" She pulled one of my hands to her lips, kissed the palm. "Please? May I tell you?" She murmured into my palm as if I could cup her words and drink them.

I nudged her with my leg. "Very well," I said. "Tell me."

She slid from my thigh, sat so our hips touched. I, too sat up, hugged my knees to my chest. The midday sun put a hint of red glow in Bella's mane. "I remember when you were born, you know?" She settled lotus style and hugged my left knee to her chin. Something against her arm prodded me and she reached absently to remove the elaborate dagger hidden in her sleeve. I watched it cautiously. "Father made Andy and I sit on that receiving bench in the foyer downstairs. Remember it?" I nodded. Should I tell her it was in the east wing of the manor? She was scraping – ever so gently – her dagger up the inside of her elbow and back down to her near-translucent wrist. The sound and motion were hypnotic. "Well. Andy admitted she was jealous of you immediately. She said 'mother will never care for us again, Bella.' I told her she was ridiculous. I couldn't wait to see you!"

She kissed my knee. It was bare, and I was suddenly aware that beneath the rather short chemise, I bore no knickers. "Anyway," she went on. "Father finally came downstairs with this tiny bundle in his arms. And I ran up so fast, he pulled you away!" She grabbed my knee excitedly. The chill of the dagger made me catch my breath. "I guess he thought I was going to snatch you and run. But…when he let me look inside the blanket…Oh, Cissy." The sharp, thin blade was scratching up my leg – hissing against the two days' stubble there.

"Bella," I whispered. The blade, the look in her eyes that said she was gone somewhere…

"I'll never forget," she said. "I looked at you and said 'Father, that's not a baby! It's Andy's dolly!' Because you were so _perfect_, Cissy!" The dagger pressed into my thigh, just above the bend of my knee. "You were so quiet and peaceful and you looked like you were made of the finest porcelain. And your eyes were soooo blue."

"Bella." I spoke louder, felt a trickle of heat spring under the blade. She'd cut me.

"But, see, Cissy? You still never _changed_. You were _mine_! Andy had her dolls, her friends, her little mudblood entourage. I had _you_! Don't you remember? I cared for you. I protected you. When father was angry, when mother was depressed, when Andy was jealous and mean, _I protected you_!"

"Bella!" I had to shout. She glanced at me, seeming to come back. I put my hand on her wrist, tugging the blade away from my skin. "Bella." She looked at my hand on her arm, saw the blood on her blade, sluicing slowly down the silver in the sunlight.

"Fuck," she muttered. Thoughtlessly, naturally, she drew the blade to her mouth and licked. I looked away. Her hand rubbed over the tiny cut she'd made. "Didn't mean to."

I shook my head dismissively. Goddess bless, she scared the shite out of me… "Bella. When we were children, when you hurt Andy, when you shouted at father… It frightened me."

"You just didn't understand, then!" She tugged my arm, pulled me a little closer to her. The blade pointed up between us. I gasped. "And when it came time for you to marry…I tried to warn you about Lucius – about his family. I knew about them."

_This again_. I groaned. "Bella! Lucius never mistreated me! You terrified me then, too! You tried so hard to convince me he would…beat me, crucio me, imperius me, rape me on my wedding night! For Merlin's sake, Bella, I loved Lucius once!"

Her eyes widened. So did mine. Had I truly said that? The knife lowered a little. "Once, Cissy?" Hell, I had said it. "What changed your mind? The fact he's offered up your boy to the Dark Lord like a Welsh rarebit? Have you seen I was right? About his darkness?"

"Darkness?" I pointed to my vanity. "Look in the mirror, sister! Darkness runs in this family! _Our _family! We could not have been more aptly named. Black," I spat. "It was you, Bella. You were the one who frightened me, who hurt me. You are the one who raped me, Bella –"

"_NO_!" She cried, clapping her hands over her ears. "I never meant to hurt you!" Her hand slid to her face, muffling her voice, but the hand on her dagger hilt tightened to a white knuckle grip. "You wouldn't let me _show_ you! You dueled me, for fuck's sake! I couldn't stop!" She rose to her knees beside me, lunged across me so quickly I cowered. The knife was perilously close to my face. "Oh, stop," she seethed. "Don't act like some simpering fragile marionette. I know the kind of witch you are. You could have bested me the other day if you'd not been so angry. When you have your head you're as deadly as I."

She took my wand from the bedside table and I tensed. But she only held it hilt toward me. I took it gratefully if uncertainly. "Why were you so angry then, Cissy?" She asked. The glimmering dagger was framed by her wide, searching eyes. "Surely, it wasn't just the fact I was…touching your little dragon?" Suddenly, like a striking snake, she stroked her hand up the inside of my thigh. "When I touched you a few weeks ago, you didn't mind."

I tried to pull away from her fingers. "I was in no right state to protest, Bella. And how dare you – "

"And how dare I?" She overrode me viperously. "Aw…how dare I make little Cissy come so hard?"

"Get out, Bella." I pointed to my door.

"Do you deny how good I made you feel?"

"Get out, Bella!" I shouted again.

"No!" She shouted over me. "I'm staying right here and we're talking! I've wanted to know for some time what's kept my sister squirreled away here in her bedroom with her son for so long. What's brought her back from a night away from home all tuckered out and wearing no knickers."

"Bella!"

"Keep saying my name, Cissy, and I might get the wrong impression." Even kneeling she was inches taller than me. She bent over my head til her nose brushed my bangs. "I want to ask you a question," she said. "I don't want to use legilimency or potions. I want you to be honest with me. Will you?"

I swallowed. My palm sweat on my wand hilt. Light glinted off her dagger. "Yes."

"Are you fucking your son?"

_Oh, gods._ My gut clenched."No." I couldn't inject the horror into my voice that was called for. I hoped she would chalk my calm up to simple delivery of truth.

"Huh." She tipped my chin up so I faced her squarely. Her dark eyes read my face feature by feature, but she didn't attempt to delve into my mind. "I hope you understand why I ask, Cissy. We don't need any complications right now. The boy needs to keep his head. Wanking to thoughts of mum won't –"

"Shut up," I hissed. "Don't be disgusting."

She settled onto her haunches. "Right, then. The Dark Lord was just concerned that –"

"The Dark Lord?" I turned toward her. "The Dark Lord has no damned business knowing anything about me! I'm not one of his boot-licking lackeys! I've no Dark Mark to bind me to him. He has my husband, my son, my sister… Whom I _fuck_ is of no concern to him."

"You just said it, Cissy! He has your son! Therefore, if you're fucking your son…it concerns the Dark Lord." Her tone was light, tripping and matter of fact. She stroked my jaw. "But I believe you, you know. And he trusts me." Her lips neared my ear. "I'll tell him, and he'll let it go. Simple as that." The gentle stroke became a pinch as she jerked my face to hers. "But _don't_ make the mistake of underestimating his intuition, Cissy. And don't lie to him. Ever." Her lips fell on mine very lightly. I felt the dagger's chill pressing into my bare back where she held me. "The consequences would be dire, indeed."

When she pulled away, I was trembling. "Now. Get dressed. I thought we'd have a picnic."

A picnic? She was insane. Truly insane. She left the room and I sat frozen in the middle of my bed. If she found out, she would tell the Dark Lord. And they would know I'd lied. I put my face in my hands. _Oh, Draco. What would that mean for you?_

After a few deep breaths, I straightened. It simply couldn't happen, then. I rose and walked to my vanity's mirror. The dark circles beneath my eyes had to go. I also worked a glamour charm for my pale cheeks. It would last until night fell, and that was enough. I leaned closer to the mirror, took in my eyes. They were the same as my son's, and for just a second, I felt his gaze on me.

I gathered my wits and dressed in a gauzy white, sleeveless frock. It _was_ picnic weather, after all.

There were many picnics until October's chill set in earnestly. Bella was always with me. We luncheoned on the grass at noon and at night, dined at the formal table. Sometimes, there were others. Death Eaters gathered around me like devils. And at the head of the table their Dark Lord.

It took my every ounce of control to not flee his very presence. His lacking lips meant much of his meal would dribble or spittle from the slit that was his mouth. He was cleanly to a fault, though, and constantly wiped at the mess. He slurped his soup and his wine, creating a sickening echo in the dining room.

Thankfully, I was generally ignored. But when he did address me, he called me 'mother,' making me in turns disgusted and disturbed. Bella always spoke for me, or apologized for my reticence. He could have cared less, but I was glad just the same that Bella was there. She fawned upon him like a frenzied concubine, seeming not to notice at all when her husband was present beside her.

I looked at Rodolphus as another shadow falling in Bella's wake. Azkaban had truly hollowed him. Sometimes seeing him felt like seeing a mirror. I wondered if the emptiness on his features matched the one in my belly and heart.

At night, I warded my rooms strongly. Bella would often knock and wish me goodnight. I could feel her just outside the doors, waiting for… I didn't know. I slept clutching a pillow like a shield against the lonely dark. I tried not to think of my son; tried not to worry for him, to imagine his own loneliness and strife; tried not to remember his touch, his kisses, his cock filling me up. More often than not I failed and stupidly wept myself to sleep.

Four days before Samhain, I received a letter from Draco. It was thick and promising. I tucked it into my skirt pocket and retreated to my room under Bella's watchful eye to read it. It was four pages of drivel, really; quidditch news, gossip among the Slytherin families, his grades. All seemed well. There was nothing in his words of his mind, his health, his heart – if he fared positively or if he missed me as I missed him.

But between the elegant slant of his composition was the crackle of magic. It was old magic and simple. I smiled and waved my wand. "Praesto." The written word faded, and glowing silver rose to the surface of the parchment. Biting my lip, I read.

_Do you miss me as I do you, I wonder. Or am I simply gone now. Out of sight and out of mind as it should be between any boy and his mother? I regret what has passed between us – not for any other reason than I must now live without. Weeks spent pressed against or slipping inside you are now weeks spent in a cold dorm bed listening to the farts and snores of my intolerable classmates. Do you suppose we shall ever smile at one another? That there will ever be smiles again at all? Does Bella bully you? Are you alone, mother? Are you mistreated? I cannot write as I wish. I am followed always and watched by either Snape or Potter. I cannot decide which is the more irritating. Snape is out for my glory, perhaps, but Potter is out for my blood. Write to me, Narcissa. Tell me you are well. I ache to touch you, to – I'll stop. It isn't fair to either of us. You know the spell. I run the risk of having my post intercepted, as do you, I imagine. But only Malfoy magic will reveal my words, so don't fear. Gods, I miss your magic, and I hope you don't fear. I miss you. I love you. Draco_

Almost as soon as I read the words, they retreated again into the parchment. I scrambled to my desk like an excited girl and produced a quill. I too, wrote drivel; my pleasure at his grades, hopes for Slytherin's success in quidditch, my orchids, how I looked forward to his holidays. Then, "Delito." The empty quill-tip scratched the invisible truth.

_Foolish boy, of course I miss you just as you do me. Yes, we've made a terrible mistake, I fear. I barely sleep now alone and I feel such need. I hate the weakness. Draco, I worry so. Be wary of Potter. But please, don't hesitate to trust Severus for I do. Don't worry for me! I am well. And hardly alone. Bella has her moments, but above all is protective of me. The Dark Lord eats at my dining table and calls me 'mother,' son. I am beyond disgust. But mostly I miss you. I repeat myself. I miss your magic, too. Oh, Dragon, don't forget who you are! Look in the mirror and see what you are to me – they will be my eyes you see there looking back at you. You have my pride no matter what happens. You know this. The only fear I feel here is that I will never see my son again. Take care of yourself, Draco. Tell me you will come home for Yule. I shall die if I don't see you soon. Goddess knows I love you impossibly. Yours – Narcissa_

I rolled the parchment briskly and looked out the window at the bright cool sky. Did I just write a love letter to my son? Did I receive a love letter from my son? I left his missive on the desk, opened. It was less risky than attempting to hide it, and he was right. Only I could activate the magic to reveal his words.

A tangle of emotions consumed me. I was overjoyed by his words, but terrified by his position. I knew he distrusted Severus, but Potter was a definite threat, even if I hated to admit it. The son of a muggleborn was Dumbledore's golden boy, while Draco's father was imprisoned as a Death Eater. I'd no doubt that there would be no equitable opinions directed toward my son. I sighed and wandered to the rookery for an owl.

Approaching the rookery, I heard an odd sound in the distance – a very faint shucking noise. After securing my letter to an owl, I went to investigate, wand drawn cautiously. At the northern edge of the Malfoy property – a fair distance from the Manor – I saw my sister.

She was breast deep in the golden thrush that grew there. She wielded a scythe in one hand and her wand in the other.

"Bella?"

She whirled toward me, startled. The flashing of her eyes startled me. "Oh. Cissy." She lowered her wand.

I tried a smile. "What are you doing?"

She wiped a torn sleeve across her sweaty brow. "Broom thrush." She gestured to two neat bundles nearby. "I thought we'd make besoms, Cissy. For Samhain. Like witches ought."

Another attempt at normalcy, even if from an unlikely source. "It's been a long time since I've wrapped a broom," I said.

"All the more reason," Bella intoned. "You'll join me, then?"

I nodded. She resumed cutting. "Can I help?"

She seemed so distracted, like she was in another place in her mind. "Get some twine," she answered. "And find us some nice limbs for handles."

"Right." I left my sister scything, looking over my shoulder just once as if to be certain she was real.

So Samhain Eve found me with Bella again. After dinner, we'd covered the dining table with the sweet-smelling golden thrush she'd harvested. Propped in two chairs were six stout limbs I'd cut from Malfoy ash, cedar and holly trees. We'd carved pumpkins earlier with triptychs and pentagrams, and now sipped spicy hot ciders while we unwound twine.

Bella was quiet, rather nostalgic. I found myself trying subtly to pull her out. I was perhaps more frightened of a quiet Bella than a raving one. She perked up a bit when she began her first broom – a holly handled piece about the length of my arm. "Walburga taught us this," she said. "Remember?"

I tightened twine around my first layer of thrush on the ash limb I'd chosen. "Vaguely."

"Ancient old bat," Bella muttered. "Mother hated her."

"Mother hated everyone." I didn't contain my chuckle.

"Mother was a real witch," Bella replied, grinning. Her tongue swiped at her teeth.

"Or a bitch," I volunteered.

Bella froze, staring at me. "Why I believe my little Cissy just made a disparaging comment about our mother!"

"I did." I added more thrush and began winding again. Bella was still watching me.

"You look very pretty tonight," she said.

I swallowed, suddenly aware that the silk frock I'd chosen amplified my cleavage when I leaned forward. I settled back in my chair self-consciously. "Thank you."

"But you both are lovely, are you not?"

The grotesque voice emanated from the dining room's archway. I didn't look up. Bella's sudden fascination was enough to tell me her master loomed there. I shuddered, glad my back was to him.

"My Lord!" Bella made to rise, but he must have stilled her.

"Do not interrupt your work, Bellatrix!" If he had a jovial tone, I was hearing it. "It…inspires me to see true witches of the purest blood exercising such an ancient rite on such an ancient night." I heard his robes suss toward us, and perhaps the snake, too. "What other rituals have you…beautiful sorceresses planned for this auspicious occasion?"

Bella practically melted in supplication and worship. "My lord, I prepare to bloodlet for you at my altar this evening. To seal your strength and success."

His hiss must have been one of appreciation. "You honor me too much, Bellatrix." Then cadaverous fingers fell onto my shoulder, curved onto my bare skin. My body erupted in gooseflesh. "And you, Narcissa? Mother lamia?"

I swallowed a thimble of bile that had risen up. I never shared my altar practices – not even with my family. My rites there were sacred and private. But I would make an exception for this beast. "Tonight my craft is for my son, your lordship." I would not call him 'my lord,' not _ever._ "I work to protect him and strengthen him."

Bella's eyes rested on my shoulder, no doubt on her master's tender touch. "Noble," he muttered. The fingers tightened just slightly. "And appreciated." He finally withdrew. "Your intent strengthens Draco's industry for our cause. I have…hopes for his success."

My fingers snapped my twine. I gasped and looked into my lap, grappling at my broom before it crumbled away. When I looked up, I saw him leaning over my sister. Her face tilted up toward his as the moon would to the sun, gathering its light for reflection. He whispered something, and Bella nodded.

He departed saying, "Merry meet, witches."

Bella seemed to have a renewed vivacity after his visit. "What did he say to you?" I asked quietly.

She smiled and tied off her broom, inspecting it. "Oh. He said he hoped our magic found strength tonight."

My lips tightened. "I see." I tied my broom with more difficulty given my broken twine. But I was happy with its fullness and weight. I lay it on the table by Bella's and rose to retrieve more thrush. Bella followed.

The golden straw was piled between the table and the floo, not close enough to be a fire hazard, but close enough that the flames in the great fireplace illuminated our gathering trips. Bella knelt behind me, and my breath caught.

"Cissy?" Her breath was right against my ear. Her fingers fell on my shoulders, the tips stroking my bare skin as her master's had.

"Yes?" I tried not to tremble.

"If your husband was with you tonight," she said softly, "would you share your magic with him? Let him strengthen it in the old ways?"

I shut my eyes tightly and did not think of my son. "Perhaps." My voice broke. Her hands gripped a little harder and her lips touched my neck. "Oh, Bella…" _Please don't. _"What about you?" I asked desperately. "Rodolphus must –"

She was tugging the wide v-neck of my dress off my shoulders, kissing all the way. "Azkaban has rendered my husband quite useless to me, Cissy." She was undoing the laces at my back. "I do hope it doesn't do the same to yours." Her hands slid over my shoulders and boldly cupped my breasts.

_Goddess damn me._ A witch's body is a traitorous thing. And the moon, the earth, the energy of Samhain… The cocktail rendered me weak. As weak as I'd been the night she'd drugged me. I surrendered, turned my head and kissed my sister.

Her lips opened mine. Her tongue tasted mine. I dropped my thrush and was suddenly laid upon it, my torso now bare. The straw smelled sweet. The fire backlit Bella's body as she knelt between my legs, stripped off her corset. The disciplining whale bone left red streaks on her ribcage. I traced one and her full breasts heaved.

She took hold of my hand and kissed each finger. "I told you I would be here for you, Cissy." She put my wet fingertips to her nipple and I squeezed obediently. "Oh! And I will be here for you. As no man or boy can be."

Her eyes, black with lust, locked onto mine and I knew with certainty that she knew. She knew about Draco and me – somehow – and she knew just as certainly how to buy my capitulation, what I would give to keep her quiet, to keep my secret. Tears stung my eyes when she brushed her breasts over mine. The straw crinkled beneath my back when she tugged my frock down my hips and legs. She kissed her way back up, then flopped into the mess beside me, yanking off her own skirt.

I rose instinctively and lay over her, stroking her face and lipping her jaw. "Bella," I murmured. She was grinning up at me. She had me. Her dark laughter turned her caresses into manipulations.

We tumbled til the hay was in our hair and enveloping us. She wrung humiliating pleasure from me; her mouth was sin incarnate on my core, her fingers teasing, but never delivering. For the second time, I tasted my own essence on her mouth. She pulled my fingers from her messy curls to her sodden cunt. "Together now, sister," she whispered. "For the magic."

I moaned as her fingers pumped inside me, following her lead and pumping mine inside her. Bella enunciated her enjoyment clearly. "Gods, yes, Cissy." She was fucking my fingers, her palm falling perfectly upon my clit. I bit my lips. "You're so close," she panted in my face. "Give in, sweet witch. Let it come. Let the goddess have your gushing."

My thighs fell open further, shallowing her thrusts. _Nonono! _"Yesyesyes, Bella!" I could not have stopped the inevitable. I saw the victory on her face as surely as she saw the defeat on mine. I surged against her, and felt her clench on my hand. She flung her head back like a beast and alchemy burst between us.

So our rite was complete. Over her shoulder I saw the moon Cheshire grinning at me in the clear, starry sky. Bella fell flush on my body, raised our hands above our heads. She was heavy, and my thighs shook from strain. "See how good we are, Cissy? We're purified within each other." She bloody licked a tear track from my right temple.

Lazily, she pushed away from me, rolled and stood up. Straw fell from her hair and sweaty skin. She stretched brazenly while I scrambled to recover my frock. Somehow it had ended up behind me, and turning to retrieve it, I caught a glimpse of something pale shifting in the shadows of the archway.

I gasped and gathered my dress to my chest. It was _he_ - her lord and master. I flushed hot and bright. He'd watched us! I looked up at Bella, re-dressing herself carelessly, humming a tuneless tune. Somehow, I felt she knew…

I could hardly decide which of us was more sickening.

**AN: **Dear dragon - thanks for the loan of your dagger. This chapter would not have been here without it. I hope I returned it in good condition? Thanks also to Nine Inch Nails, Portishead, Incubus and Shivaree for the soundtrack. And Florence's lovely 'Remain Nameless'...priceless here.


	8. Divine as Myself

The Hands of the Sisters

_Divine as Myself_

Cold November collapsed on us all and my home had become a prison. I spent my days avoiding my sister, the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. I warded myself into my rooms both day and night, emerging to eat only if I was requested. I ate very little lately, anyway. Bella commented one morning in the library.

"You're looking very thin."

I gave her a withering glare. She was certainly one to talk. She looked like the walking dead. "I've little appetite."

"I could brew up something for you if you like."

"No." I remembered her last brew and looked back to my book. I was reading, but certainly not absorbing. And now that she'd wandered in, I was too nervous to function.

She stood behind the chaise I reclined on and put her palms to my shoulders, massaging. "Even our Lord is worried about you, Cissy." Her fingers brushed my hair from my ear. "He has asked me to look out for you. Do you know what he told me?"

I clenched my jaw hard. I could care less. That sick demon had watched my sister use me on Samhain – had most likely encouraged her in the first place. I was beyond disgusted with them both.

But her lips hit my temple anyway. She wrapped her arms around me from behind and whispered. "He says we witches are the future of our world. That when we go back to the old ways, we will be the rulers." She chuckled. "I like the sound of that, Cissy. Me and you – sorceress empresses of His magical land." A hand slid up my chest, up my neck and pushed my head back. She kissed me just to the left of my lips. "Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

My throat hurt when I swallowed against her grip. "Yes, Bella."

She released me suddenly, almost forcefully. Her voice hardened like an obsidian blade. "Don't humor me, Narcissa. I'm not one to be placated." She sniffed. "Just start coming to dinner." She swept from the room and I was able to breathe again.

There'd been no word from Draco. I had owled him twice now and heard nothing in return. I tried not to be depressed, tried to chalk his silence up to his revising, but I knew the true source of his distraction. I worried myself to shreds and pounded the tangible emptiness in my heart when I cried in my empty bed at night. But my son's silence was soon to be revealed for more than I imagined it to be…

Bella left the manor on November 17th. I've no idea where she went, only that she woke me with her incessant knocking. I cracked my door cautiously, saw her raised brow. "Yes, Bella?"

She pushed past me into my room. "You know these wards are ridiculous, right?" I didn't reply, but crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm leaving for a bit. On a mission. With Him." Her chin jutted. She was proud.

"Congratulations," I muttered.

Her face fell. "Let's see how haughty you are without me, Cissy. We shall return tomorrow sometime."

I nodded. "Be careful."

She regarded me as one would a child who's spoken out of turn. "Just don't do anything stupid while we're away." I bristled, but made no comment. She reached for my face, grabbing me roughly when I flinched away. "Don't contact anyone." She kissed me on my lips. I struggled briefly, but resigned when I felt her wand hilt press into my abdomen.

She embraced me. Her tongue invaded my mouth. My moan of duress must have been mistaken for pleasure. Seeming hours later, she released me. "Such a divine future we'll be, Cissy."

I was nodding as she left my room. I resisted the urge to spit, settled for wiping my mouth roughly on the sleeve of my dressing gown. _Sick cunt._

I left my room after that, seemingly for the first time in days. My house was quiet and empty save for me. I summoned the elf to bring breakfast to the bright sunroom. I saw that some of my plants were suffering from neglect. I ate in peace, bathed in peace, dressed in peace and wandered my grounds in peace. My well-charmed roses were blooming deep red despite the chill of looming December. Briskly, I pulled my wand and sliced a few blooms for a bouquet in the library.

The library is where I settled. The epic tome I'd started days earlier lay discarded on the chaise. I took it up and wrapped a soft shawl around my shoulders. I read until the elf popped in with post. One parchment roll. I took it listlessly, not leaving the chaise. Probably for Bella or any of the other numerous masked strangers sometime residing in my home.

But the Hogwarts seal caught my eye. I leapt from my seat, fingers tingling. My breath sharpened as I wrenched the ribbon free, casting it to the floor.

_Mother. I can only guess why you still do not respond to my letters. If you are angry I shan't be home for Yule, I can only beg forgiveness. I need to hear from you, mum. To know you are safe. Even if you only tell me you hate me, let me have a word. I miss you and love you. Draco_

My ears pounded. He'd written me? I'd seen nothing! No post! Nothing! "Bella!" I spat. She'd been intercepting my owls and Draco's. I _knew_ it! I took the steps two, three at a time, raced down the hall to her room. My chest heaved. I tested her doors cautiously, but felt no wards. Glancing once behind me, I pushed into her space.

The room was dark and positively frigid. One of her windows was cracked open rather widely. It felt as though she were a corpse to be kept fresh. And it smelled…like Bella, yes. Spicy and musky. But the further I ventured inside, I put a hand over my nose and mouth. An acrid, metallic and…_burning_ smell. "What the hell?" I murmured to myself.

Her altar was the only furniture other than her bed. Both were scattered messes, but my field of search was narrowed nicely. Her bed was Spartan – two battered pillows and a simple sheet on a down mattress. Wasn't she cold?

I ducked and peered underneath. "Fuck!" I was practically pushed away by the stench, crab-walked backward and perched on my haunches. Eyes wide with fear and disbelief, I peeked again from a safer distance.

Those were _remains_! Skeletal mounds with fur or feather still clinging, meat hanging and an occasional eye bulging or dried. Some of them stared back at me. "Oh, Gods. Bella." I forced myself to round the bed, checking thoroughly. I saw no parchment – only rot.

Rising, I felt disgusted. Movement in the window caught my eye. A wind chime of bones shifted and clacked in a sudden gust of wind. Drying on the windowsill were the skulls of various animals – birds of all sizes, possibly a doe and definitely a grinning, sharp-fanged badger. I shuddered and stepped away.

Lavatory next. I wanted to wash my soul, but I settled for my hands and face. I heaved for a moment over Bella's equally bare sink. The cool porcelain felt calming beneath my wet fingers, and I was concentrating on breathing when I noticed something strange.

On the wall above the sink, and on the sink itself, and on the mirror above the sink: Blood. Bloody, smeared hand and fingerprints.

I staggered away from the depravity, checked my own hands. They were clean. I lurched back into her disgusting room, nearly tripped over a pile of clothing and approached her altar. I was appalled at Bella's living conditions, but not stupid. A witch's altar is nothing to desecrate. I was both cautious and respectful in my inspection.

Bella's altar was a modified cabinet. Waist-high, it possessed a hollow center she'd covered with a black crocheted scarf. A cursory glance at the top of the altar revealed little out of the ordinary – a coal burner, cauldron, sundry herbs. There was a silver offering plate covered with a white kerchief. I dared not look underneath. No athame. I knew that Bella kept her on her person at all times – the elaborate dagger that had belonged to our great grandmother. I had felt its sting against my own skin.

Gently, I held aside the shawl and bent for a look in the cabinet. There, to the side in a neat pile – five loosely rolled parchments with broken Hogwarts seals. "You _bitch_!" I forgot decorum, respect and caution and snatched the missives and bolted from her nauseating den.

I needed the safety of my room. Even alone in my home, I wanted the secured clutch of my bed. I kicked out of my slippers and made a nest for myself, reading letter after letter from my son. I used my wand to reveal his hidden words. I could tell the letters had been tampered with, but Draco's words held true. Only Malfoy magic could reveal his sweetest sentiments.

My heart melted in my chest. He still missed me, still loved me. There was guilt, yes, and doubt in his words – both blatant and secret. There was anger and denial and a hint of betrayal lurking and eventually conflagrating. As his letters had gone unanswered, he'd been furious. Then concern had taken over. Apparently, he had asked Severus to check on me. Poor Severus… I smiled sadly. Poor Draco…

I had to write him now. Immediately. Let him know the truth – that our letters were being stopped or stolen by his aunt. I scrambled to my desk. First, my safe words.

Son – I understand your absence from this year's Yule. We shall hardly be as a family without your father present, anyway. And I am pleased you've chosen to focus on your studies. Know that I am with you in thought and celebration. – Your Loving Mother

I muttered the spell. The empty quill scratched my truth.

_Draco – don't write further. Bella intercepts all of our correspondence. I have only now found your last letters. Oh, son! I miss you. I worry so for you. I am crushed I shan't see you at holiday – surely you know that. Don't doubt my complicated and horrifying feelings for you have not changed. I cannot breathe when I think of you – of us together. My mind and body battle violently and still I ache to touch you and hold you not as a mother should. We are truly damned, son – in so many ways. And if we survive this coming storm, I wonder if we shall survive its aftermath. Just remember – please remember – you are no murderer, my darling. You are my greatest pride. Trust Severus. And know I love you hopelessly. – Your Narcissa_

I sealed and tied off my missive with white ribbon. A gesture of peace. I knew that Bella had said she would return on the morrow, but I couldn't be guaranteed that time. I rushed to the rookery and snapped at our fastest eagle owl – a handsome black creature called Aquila. "Please," I whispered to the beast. "Just to Draco. Let no other touch this letter. If you must, draw their blood. Just Draco."

I was a desperate maniac, whispering to an owl. But it seemed to understand. Its wings generated a powerful, warm wind as it left the coop purposefully. I stood amongst the other owls, doves and various birds we'd collected over the years. A few peacocks and guinea hens had followed me into the roost, hoping for a handful of scratch. I rubbed my arms worriedly, chewed at my lip. I plunged my hand into the seed bucket and cast out golden corn for the birds. _Let them be happy, at least._

I returned to my room. I would replace the letters – not have Bella knowing I'd found them. _I could kill her. _I had never felt such fury. Of all the things she'd done to me…the insults, the hits, the punches, hexes…the ways she'd used my body so sickly… This I could not accept.

In my lavatory, I regarded my pained reflection. _Why?_ _Why would she do such a thing?_

The witch who squinted back at me pursed her lips. _Don't be naïve_, she groused. _She felt the tingle of magic all over those letters. Your son was foolish to use such a powerful spell for such a simple deception. She's jealous, and possessive of you. _The witch's head cocked. _The question is – what will you do?_

I clapped my hands over my ears and clenched my eyes shut. _I will not let her make me insane! I will not let her win this duel! This is __**my **__house! He is __**my **__son!_

The witch laughed. _He's your __**lover**__, you mean! Are you to be his slut, his mother __**and**__ his champion?_

"Damn you!" I screamed at her, slammed my open hand against the mirror. "I'm no slut! Do you think I _asked_ for this? _Any _of this?"

I calmed, shaking slightly. She stared at me, gauging my sincerity. _Then do something about it. Under the floor of the drawing room. You know what to seek._

I roared at her, opened the potions cabinet and slammed it shut. When I looked up again, I saw myself. Just myself. She was gone. But she was right.

I dined alone at the enormous dining table that night. But peace was far from me. I wrung my napkin in my hands and barely touched my roast chicken. I could not shake my anger at my sister, couldn't stop thinking of what lay beneath the floor of the drawing room.

The elf appeared to take my uneaten meal and replace it with pudding and a coffee. I glanced at the dessert, then shoved away from the table. My skirt swirled around my feet as I glided into the drawing room. An obnoxious Persian rug – my choice – covered the floor. I hurled it aside, letting it fall over a gilt in-laid Queen Anne coffee table. Muggles made lovely furnishings…

Under the rug was a plank of dark polished wood barely discernible as being separate from its neighbors. Lucius had hidden things here years earlier to escape the Ministry's dark objects raid. Only a few things – precious things. One of those precious things, I needed.

A wave of my wand and a whispered password pushed the panel up with a soft hiss. I tossed it aside. Amidst boxes of charmed trinkets and velvet bags of glittering jewelry, was an elongated lacquered mahogany box. I pulled it reverently from the compartment and cradled it in my lap.

Inside the box, snug in voluptuous satin, was my great aunt's athame. Bella may have inherited great gran's, but I was chosen to receive this one. My fingers peeled away a layer of red satin, traced the hilt revealed. Nearly six inches long, slender and painstakingly detailed, it was a carved piece of solid white ivory. "Gorgeous," I whispered.

I removed the ceremonial knife in its pliable leather sheath. Many would have called it a small sword rather than an athame. I slid it slowly from its leather embrace. The sharply honed elven steel blade glinted moonlight along its 14 inches. It was ornately embossed with roses in various stages of bloom. The stem and vine etching continued onto its handle – the jutting thorns and curving leaves becoming comfortable finger holds.

I thrust it before my face, turned it across my gaze until I saw my own eyes reflected in its mirroring surface. They were narrowed, determined and the same color as the steel I wielded. A pulse of…something surged along my arm and sent slivers into my heart. I bristled. _This is power. _I gripped the blade with my free hand. It didn't require a hard hold to let it taste my blood. The surge intensified. I smiled.

_This is divinity, sister…_

I slept peacefully with Aunt Laguena's athame beneath my pillow. In fact, I slept better than I had in months. And I dreamed of Draco dressed in shining armor. He was like a star in a night sky. I felt the coolness of his metal plating beneath my lips and fingers. I worshiped him and called him 'my son,' but he kissed me like I was the possession. I yielded like a maiden shepherd caught dozing, and he fucked me soundly beneath a protective and secreting willow.

I woke guiltless and whispering his name. Dawn was soft and gentling. Again I bathed without wards and even hummed a tuneless tune. I dressed in a thick, comfortable cotton frock and took tea in the solarium. A light snow flurry obscured the day, but I made out white globules of peacocks meandering about the grounds.

I did not join them. Instead, I attended my own altar. With a carefully gathered array of herbs and rather eclectic ingredients, I set about brewing in my small cauldron. I was done well before Bella returned that afternoon, breathless and excited from her travels.

I listened to her tell me animatedly of her adventure with the Dark Lord. "There were seven of us in all," she explained, removing her boots. She flopped onto the library chaise at my folded feet. "We each picked a Ministry worker and kidnapped them. I got some buggering old bastard from Department of bloody Muggle Affairs or some rot." She laughed riotously and I smiled indulgence. "My Lord said he thought I would enjoy that!" She shrugged. "He was right. I did." A sigh. "Anyway. All we really did was shake them up a bit – let them know where the real power lies and get some information. Well…"

She looked down at her stockinged feet. A toe protruded from a tear. It wiggled. "I got carried away. As usual. You know me, Cissy."

_Indeed I do. _"Yes, Bella. I know you."

She smiled almost shyly, for all the world like a Hogwarts third year. "Oh, He wasn't _angry_ at me for killing the git! I mean, I did get the questions answered!" She made a loose gesture with her hands, one of which twirled her wand still. "But He did tell me to be more careful next time. And I think he's got plans for filling that Ministry worker's position, anyway."

She looked at me sideways. "You do realize the Ministry is about to fall, Cissy? That His plan is working?"

I nodded. "I see now," I assured her.

She grinned and propped her chin on my bent knees. "I'm glad, Cissy. We were worried you might…muck things up. Still worried about Draco?"

I shook my head, tried to appear as peaceful as my flagellating heart would allow. "Not really, no." I lied.

But she seemed convinced. She kissed my knee. "Good. The cabinet is nearly repaired now. Any day, Cissy. Any day!" She squeezed my legs excitedly.

"Shall we celebrate with a nice dinner tonight?" I asked her. "Tonight? Just us?" I smiled at her wide-eyed surprise. "Unless, of course, His Lordship wishes to join his future sorceress empresses?"

She was shaking her head slowly, as if trying to convince herself I was sincere. "No… He rests tonight. Exhausted by our journey. But…" She brushed a finger down the side of my face. "I would love to join you for dinner, Cissy. I'll be happy to see you. Just us!"

I turned my head to place a kiss on the finger lingering near my lips. Bella gasped. "Lovely," I whispered. I returned demurely to my book. Bella practically floated from the room to bathe, glancing back a few times to be assured I was no apparition.

We ate the season's first fresh venison that evening. For all I knew, Bella had killed it and was currently bleaching its skull in her window. Not that it mattered where it came from. It was truly delicious. I poured the wine rather freely, especially for Bella. She didn't notice.

I noticed that she'd 'dressed up' for dinner. She wore a shoulderless, velvet frock in the only color she owned – black. And her hair was nearly tamed, or at least brushed. It was a soft, thick cloud about her head and neck. Her fingernails were smooth and clean, and she wore a bit of dark gloss on her lips.

I poured her fourth glass of wine. "You look splendid tonight, sister."

She giggled. It was a disturbing sound emerging from her throat. "You too, Cissy." Her fingers stretched across the table to stroke mine. "It's been nice having time with you tonight." I stroked back. She licked her lips. "We could spend some more time together tonight, you know." Her eyelids were heavy and her pupils dilated. My potion was working perfectly.

I surprised her yet again. "I think I would like that, Bella." I rose seductively from the table, revealing the thigh high slit in my green satin dress. I saw her eyes track my bare skin as I rounded the table. "Shall we?" I cocked my head toward the stairs and she stumbled a bit as she pushed back her chair. If she'd had strings, I could have controlled her like a marionette.

I led her to my room, peeling off my arm-length gloves. A quick spell and the floo fired to life, bathed the room in orange flicker. "Lie down," I said. "And give me a moment." She was scrambling onto my bed as I entered the lavatory. I saw her shove her wand underneath a pillow.

I was remarkably calm as I pulled the athame from its sheath along my opposite thigh. It had warmed there all night, holstered beside my wand. I held both tools and checked my reflection. I was unsurprised to see the witch there. She looked devastating; blue eyes flashing hotly against her pale skin, emerald green setting off her loose white blonde layers.

_Ready? _She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

I smiled at her. "Ready," I whispered.

In my bed, Bella's chest rose and fell deeply, steadily. _Perfect._ I waved my wand. A hiss from beneath my bed. I stepped from my heels, but the material still crackled when I walked on it. But Bella didn't stir at the sound. Nor did she stir when I extracted her wand from beneath her head. I set it atop my altar and crawled onto the bed, up the burgundy duvet I'd chosen specially, and over my sister's unconscious form.

I paused looking down on her. Her eyes fluttered infinitesimally behind her dark lids. One hand fell listlessly at one shoulder. I felt the other fold limp against my calf. Her throat was beautiful – vulnerable in the reddening firelight. It would be even prettier opened up – wide like a grinning sinner and belching blood like the bloated bulimic she was. _Yes._

Left hand clutching my wand, my right raised the silver blade…and Bella's eyes snapped open.

_Quick!_ I brought the blade down and across – she caught my wrist. "No!" I whined. She was damned strong. Her fingers bruised. The blade barely touched above her larynx, but still a sparse sliver of blood beaded on her skin.

She was incredibly calm for a witch with a knife at her throat and a wand at her head, but her hand still shook where she held me. "Found your letters, I presume?"

I nodded, tears heating in my throat.

Bella moaned a tiny moan, bit her bottom lip. "Cissy. You look so beautiful with vengeance in your eyes." Her brows quirked. "This could get fun." Her free hand slid casually beneath her pillow.

Then, she froze. I saw a trickle of something akin to fear for the first time in her eyes. "Where's my wand, Cissy?"

I swallowed. "Guess." My knife hand pressed further.

She pressed back harder, gritted her teeth. "Kill me and you'd best be prepared to kill my Master, too," she ground out. "Stupid witch!" Her voice was a hiss. "How would you explain it? My murder in your bed? He would kill you at once! And then who would…comfort…your sweet boy? Hm?"

I blinked. My grip on the athame's hilt loosened. _I hadn't thought…_

"Yes, I suspect between wet-hen pissery and whatever's leaking out of that blade into your brain, you haven't had a very clear head today." She pushed a final push at my knife hand. "Let it go, Cissy. Just…drop it. For a moment. If you still want to kill me, fine. But try to do it without a belly full of Black magic. Eh?"

_Black magic…_ A fog was clearing. I let go of the ivory hilt. Bella held my hand over the edge of the bed, and the blade fell to the floor. She heard its peculiar thunk and peered over at it. "What the hell is that carpet, Cissy?"

She pushed me to a sitting position atop her. "Muggles call it plastic," I murmured absently.

"Goddess bless." Bella stared at me. "I'm surprised you didn't just gut me over dessert. Fucking hell, witch!" She gestured to the discarded athame. "Was that Aunt Laguena's?"

I nodded.

She chuffed. "Good thing I worked on immunities to belladonna and flux." She was twisting my face to and fro, studying me. "You were always a devious little potioneer, though. How do you feel?"

I blinked. There was an echo resounding in my head. "Strange…"

"I bet." She plucked my wand and planted me on my back. I snapped to defense, but she quieted me. "Not tonight, little sister." She put my wand into my hand. "There's a bit too much darkness in this bed even for me right now." She swayed as she stood. "And I've got to sleep off your brewing skills, I'm afraid."

On my elbows, I watched her retrieve her wand from my altar. "Put that fucking blade away tomorrow. You can't handle it." She stopped at the foot of my bed and looked at me. "Really, Cissy? Over a few letters from your incestuous son?"

"I hate you," I spat. "I hate Him!"

Bella chuckled. "Accept that I'm the strong one, Cissy, and you're the weak one. It's always been that way."

"You're wrong."

She shook her head. "No. And you'll miss me when I'm gone. Who will fight your battles for you, then? Hm?"

I rose up to shout, but a wave of dizziness pulled me under. I heard Bella slam my door behind her when she left. The dark madness inhabiting me bled from my re-opened palm onto the bedding. I wiped the blood absently.

So a division formed. I could not fill the chasm. I would be fighting my battles from now on…

**AN: **Thanks to my dragon for her Bella insight, to my loyal readers and reviewers including the lovely Lady Black, Greyella and Cherepaha, and to Lacuna Coil, Alkaline Trio, Joan Jett, Nightwish, The Psychedelic Furs and Black Sabbath.


	9. My Enemy is Dead

The Hands of the Sisters

_My Enemy is Dead_

Draco did not owl me again. He'd obviously received my warning about our post. The lack of word from him was a chasm in my chest. Yule came and went without him. Death Eaters came and went as well. In January, I saw Severus for the first time in months.

He'd arrived late for a meeting. I would not have known he was in my house had I not heard his voice as I passed the dining hall. He was speaking to the Dark Lord, but I heard Bella interrupt him rudely several times. I ducked into a shadowed alcove near the archway to await his departure and hopefully catch him alone. I longed for word of Draco.

There were others inside. They spoke in hushed tones with a building intensity. Bella shouted at Greyback and the Dark Lord chastised them both in a hiss. I recognized his tone of dismissal, having received it a few times, myself. Tensing in the alcove, I held my breath as my sister breezed past, laughing boisterously on the arm of Yaxley.

Then Greyback appeared. He stopped before me, sniffing the air. _Shite._ I saw his sickening, lecherous grin spread as he turned slowly to face me. A chuckle akin to a growl emerged from his chest.

"The pretty mistress," he purred. "Alone at last, are we? With no dragon cub to defend you?" His arm stretched into the alcove and my belly collapsed inward to avoid it. I slipped my wand from my quilted cotton sleeve. "Come out, come out wherever you are," he taunted.

_Fine._ I lunged underneath his arm and out of hiding, wand at ready in dueling stance. "Go on, you fetid cur," I spat. "I'll not trouble myself with stepping over your corpse. You'd dare to touch me in my own house?"

The wolf laughed lowly. "I cannot resist the taste of pure blood, Mrs. Malfoy." He stressed the 'Mrs.' and pulled his own gnarled wand. "And you make a particularly pretty platter."

"Fenrir. Mind your manners."

Greyback turned. Severus loomed behind him. "Snape. I thought you'd left."

Severus' black eyes ironically ate the wolf. "It would appear I have not. Do you intend to duel the mistress of this house under the watchful eyes of your Lord and Master who respects her? Under the watchful eyes of her sister?" He leaned toward Greyback menacingly. "Under my own watchful eyes?"

Fenrir chuffed and slipped his wand back into his rancid cloak. "I only meant to tease the witch."

Severus cocked his head. "Out," he said, as though commanding a dog.

Greyback slinked away, giving me one backward glare. I watched him cautiously, lowering my wand but not stowing it.

"He wouldn't dare hurt you," Severus said. I turned to him. "He fears Bella. Or nearly any of us. He knows he's on the Dark Lord's lowest rung."

I nodded. "Thank you just the same, Severus." This time, I slipped my wand back into hiding. "I didn't relish the thought of having to duel the odious beast."

Severus quirked a wry grin, very brief but almost charming. "I've something for you."

I blinked. "For me?"

He reached into his robe and extracted a palm-sized box. "From Draco," he said. He checked our surroundings briskly and gestured for me to walk with him. He passed me the parcel on the stairs. My hand shook as I took it. "He told me of your last missive and knew he would be unable to safely contact you by post. I assured him I would deliver his message and the gift."

My throat threatened to close. "Thank you, Severus."

We hit the first floor landing. "It is no trouble." He glanced about again, faultlessly paranoid. "I know you must worry. Try not to. The boy is frustratingly determined to complete his task independently, but I am just as determined to honor our vow. I must return to Hogwarts – for that very reason. He wanders the corridors at night."

I swallowed, catching hold of his arm as he turned. "Severus!"

"Yes?"

Unthinking, I flung my arms about his neck. "Thank you. For everything, I thank you."

Awkwardly, one of his long hands fell upon my lower back. The other wrapped around one of my arms, as if afraid I would tighten my hold. Sensing his discomfort, I pulled away swiftly. He looked gobsmacked. I tried to smile at him.

"Well, well, well." It was Bella. I whirled to see her staring down at us from the second floor landing. She leaned against the wall with the tip of her wand touching her mouth. "Cozy, aren't we?"

"Bella," I growled.

Severus' hand on my elbow silenced me. "As I said, I must go, Narcissa." His voice lowered. "I return in one week if you should have a message for your son." I gave him no reply. His robes surged out like great crows' wings and snapped at his ankles when he hurried through the manor's heavy doors.

I turned back to my sister to find her standing right behind me. "How dare you," I hissed. "You know what Severus and I speak of. He deserves my gratitude, not to be disrespected in my house."

"I wondered which of us inherited mother's harlot trait. I see it was you, Cissy." I pushed past her. "Do you always spread for just any bit of trashblood? I don't suppose I should feel special!"

_Fuck her._ I ignored her, hurried to my room and warded myself in. Safe at my desk, I pulled Draco's box from the folds of my frock coat and carefully tugged at the twine. The parchment wrapping itself was a letter in my son's elegant hand.

_Mother – I missed you this holiday. I missed home and our Yule log, the spiced cider and pudding. But I did manage to do a bit of shopping, and Professor Snape has assured me my gift will find you. Wear it well, and know I think of you often. Your son – Draco_

I felt the tingle and pulled my wand. "Praesto." The silver secret unfolded between Draco's fine ink.

_I dream of you. Lusty currents I can't control. I miss your body, mother. I miss your breasts and your belly when it meets mine. I miss the taste of you – your mouth and between your thighs. I miss the sounds that come from that sinful mouth – the things you say when we cast silencing charms. I miss when you forget I'm your son or that you're my mother – when you thrust your hands into my hair while I thrust my cock into your cunt. I miss your tight, your heat, the wet of you. I miss when we're rough and when we're tender. I miss after, too – when you hold me and I can hear your heart right beneath my ear, beating quick and slowing. I miss waking with an arm over your chest, your nipples hardening in my elbow, and the softness of your morning voice. I miss your cooking and your humming, the way you tuck your feet when you read. I miss my mother and my lover. If I never touch you, hold you, kiss you, fuck you again, know I was alive then and only then because I feel dead inside now. I love you unforgivably. If this doesn't find you, I'll kill Snape in his sleep. Yours alone – Draco_

"Gods above," I murmured to myself. How was I to respond to _that_? I lifted the lid off the thin, square box. Nestled in a tuft of fluff was a delicate silver bracelet. I lifted it with a sad smile. No – too long. An anklet? I fingered it. The chain was thin, but strong. It shone brightly. Dangling from it almost unnoticeably was a tiny but detailed dragon.

I didn't stop the tears. I let them come swift and hard, let them run out. Collecting myself, I bent to secure the jewelry around my ankle. It fit perfectly, falling in such a way it could be secured inside a boot if necessary. I knew whey he'd chosen this piece, beyond the symbolic beast. It could be hidden – like us. I would never remove it.

Days passed before I was able to respond to Draco's letter. I blushed and flushed like an errant schoolgirl when I read it – and I read it several times. But Draco knew as well as anyone else (if not better) that I was a quiet, private woman. He had to know such an expression of blatant sexual feeling would challenge me. But at once, it excited me. I felt giddy at the thought of being the object of his desires.

It was silly and fatuous. He made me feel like a young thing again. Or perhaps his words simply took me away from my desperation for a time, let me have something besides fear. I wanted to do the same for him, offer him that solace and escape.

The evening before Severus' next visit, I wrote to my son. In plain bat's blood ink, I told him I forgave him for missing our holidays, that all was well at home. I wished him luck in his exams and promised him his favorite meals if he came home for spring holidays. But in our secret spell-speak, I told him this:

_I have been maiden in my youth, and that youth seemed long gone. I became mother some 17 years ago, and now even that feels long gone. The last cycle of my witch's triptych is to become crone. And I resigned myself to that path in recent times, deciding if I survived the coming darkness I would do so as an old hag. But suddenly, unexpectedly, you came. You had always been there, I suppose, but not as the tripping goatherd moonchild who kissed away my tears and tendered me like a fawn in his arms. You, young dragon, breathed fire into my frigid frame again. You stroked an ember to a flame again. I have asked the goddess unceasingly why – why you? Why my son? The fruit of my loins, a prohibited pleasure. She sends me only torturous dreams of you in answer and so I have stopped. I accept defeat. What will come of us? I know not. I ask not. Only that when it comes, you are beside me. And if we never touch, hold, kiss or yes, fuck (as you are so irreverently fond of saying) each other again, know this. That you resurrected a maiden with your mind, mouth and body. That your fingers grip my memory. That I taste you in my tears. Whether we are destroyed or destruction, so mote it be. I love you – as a son and as a growing god. I ache to have you soon. And I am with you in your trials. Your Narcissa_

The eve of the next Death Eater meeting I was nervous. I had slipped my letter into a potion bottle, as I had no pretense of gift-giving. I imagined a potion bottle on Severus' person would cause no question. I ate in the dining room with my sister. The Dark Lord was present, but as I'd been more sociable of late, I raised little suspicion with my attendance.

Bella was sullen over dinner. She'd been distracted lately, isolated. She'd avoided me or lashed out in anger when she did encounter me. I chalked her moodiness up to stress. After all, I'd no idea what went on in the heads of madmen – or mad women. Or did I?

This thought gave me pause over my spice cake. That witch in the mirror… Well, I hadn't seen her lately, so I must be alright.

"Narcissa." It was the Dark Lord's voice.

I looked to him. "Yes?" My sister's eyes burned holes in me.

He wiped his disgusting mouth. "Why don't you attend this evening's meeting? You may be interested in our more recent progressions."

Bella gasped. I bowed my head. "Your lordship. I am honored by the invitation, but I feel a weak witch such as myself is undeserving at a table amidst your avowed followers."

He laughed. I glanced up in surprise. "Weak," he muttered. "I hear otherwise about you, wife of Lucius. I hear…that you may be worth more to me than your husband."

I looked at Bella. Her face was an absolute rictus of resentment, of jealousy. She curled her lip at me. "You flatter me – "

"I flatter no one." His tone was cold, harsh. Inarguable. "I shall send for you this evening. When I do, you will come."

I swallowed, bowed again. "Yes, your lordship."

Bella pushed noisily away from the table. I watched her depart. I was alone with Him.

"Your sister is angry." He held a hand over the arm of his chair. His snake slithered up to it, nuzzled the claw lovingly. "She is impatient, our Bella. She gets ahead of our plans, needs to understand that perfection requires deliberation. I feel you understand that, do you not?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"You do not prostrate yourself, do you Narcissa?"

Honesty. Avoid eye contact. "No. Not easily."

He chuckled. I cringed. "I like that. I like a strong witch. They can be magnificent allies." He sniffed. It was a wet sound. "Or ravishing catastrophes." He rose from his seat, walked behind my chair. The snake followed. He paused at my back. I stared ahead. "I am curious to see what will come of you." They left the room slowly and I breathed again.

I had to time my approach perfectly. The meeting was at nine o' clock. Severus was always punctual within three minutes or so. Our exchange of words had to appear casual in case we were observed. So I lurked in the drawing room, adjacent to the entrance hall. Indeed, I saw him when he entered, and left my shadowed nook as though I was on my way to make a cuppa.

"Severus." I greeted him warmly.

He returned a stiff bow. "Narcissa."

I palmed the potion bottle, and when I took his hands in felicitation, he took the bottle with scarcely a questioning look. "How fares my son?" My eyes gestured to the bottle he was secreting in his frock coat.

"Well enough." He nodded. "And he asks after you. What shall I tell him?"

"That I, too am well. Thank you, Severus."

"Good evening, Narcissa."

We parted. I made for my room, passing my sister on the stairs. Rudely, she brushed against me. "Sister." I attempted an uncertain greeting.

"Hardly a sister of mine," she replied and passed. I watched her back descend the stairs with no further comment.

In my room, I read. The Dark Lord had said He would send for me and perhaps that was true. I didn't prepare for bed, even though tiredness crept through my bones. And I was right to remain alert. Near midnight, Antonin Dolohov knocked at my door. "His lordship requests your presence in the dining hall, Mrs. Malfoy."

Dolohov was ever respectful even if slippery as a bathing salamander. I stepped into the hall. "Thank you, Mr. Dolohov." He nodded curtly and descended the stairs a few steps ahead of me.

My dining hall was transformed. Chairs were pushed to the walls and Death Eaters of all shapes and sizes sat, leaned or bent double upon them. Standing on opposing ends of the table were Bella and Yaxley. _Oh gods. _They'd been dueling. It explained the injuries, the smell of ozone and the crackle of intense magic in the air.

I tensed, paused in the archway. "The very witch!" Voldemort pointed to me from across the room. "Come here, Narcissa." As I rounded the table, I caught Severus' eyes across the room. They held a warning. The Dark Lord's clawed hand curled around my elbow. "We've spoken this evening of loyalty!" His voice rang clear, echoed. "And I've watched you all duel each other skillfully in my name. I've summoned this witch to be an example to you – an example of loyalty. I believe she is familiar to all here?"

There were nods. Fenrir Greyback growled. "This witch whose house we inhabit this evening is loyal to her husband, Lucius Malfoy. And to their son, Draco. Are you not, Narcissa?"

I nodded. "Yes, your lordship."

He pushed me toward the table. "Down!" He shouted at Bella and Yaxley. They leapt to the floor like guilty pups. Bella stared madly. "The question is: Is the witch loyal where it counts? Is she loyal to _me_?" He shoved me harder; I caught myself against the table's edge, my belly pressing against it. "Are you loyal to me, Narcissa?"

The fervor, the madness in his tone was undoing. I was truly terrified of this wizard. "I-I am!" I stammered.

His face was close to mine. The sound of his breath sliding desperately through his nose slits sped my heartbeat. "No! I don't believe you!" Spittle hit my face. I resisted wiping it away. "You squander your loyalty and the strength of your blood's magic on a useless husband and a cowardly boy!" Tears welled in my eyes. "Tonight, I show the witch where the true power lies!"

He whirled away from me and addressed his followers. "Who will duel the witch in my name? Who will show her their loyalty and their pride?" There were murmurs from around the room, but no immediate takers. I quaked against the table, closed my eyes and willed my knees to hold me up. They knew me, knew I was no killer, no Death Eater like them. And they knew Bella was my sister – and protective. Although, I hardly felt her protection now. I looked up and saw her grinning at me.

"No one?" The Dark Lord slammed a hand onto the table behind me. I jumped. "A reward then? For besting the lady of the house? Hm?" He stalked around the table, meeting eyes and challenging egos. "What shall it be?"

"I'll duel her!" My stomach churned. I knew it would be Greyback. "I'll beat her, too," the cur growled. "For a night with her all to myself."

The Dark Lord laughed. Laughter surrounded me, in fact, some of it uncertain and some of it mean. I looked again at Bella while I held the bile at the back of my throat. She was one of the many laughing.

"An excellent idea, Fenrir!" Voldemort agreed good-naturedly. "And if there is no other wizard here who considers himself strong enough to take on the witch…"

The laughter settled. I breathed deeply. So I was to battle for my very dignity. _I will kill myself before I let that beast take me._ My magic surged in my belly – not the angry fire, but the willful wave.

But then, another voice, an unmistakable and convincing one. "If those are to be the stakes…I shall duel the witch."

Severus. I froze. A stunned collective gasp arose. The Dark Lord, incensed, rushed to Snape. "Is this true, Severus? My most trusted?" At that, my eyes couldn't help flashing to Bella. She colored and hardened her sneer at me. So _that_ was the source of her late discord…

But the Dark Lord was speaking again. "Has our ascetic perhaps…coveted his friend's possession?" More laughter. The master settled his minions. "Hush! Hush." He placated. "I love it!" His adoration translated to a keening and evil giggle. He clapped his hands. "Very well! Severus versus the Malfoy witch!" There were mixed groans and shouts of approval. Greyback seethed into a corner to watch. Voldemort gestured to the table. "Up!" He commanded.

I boosted myself onto my dining table in time to see Severus leap nimbly onto the opposite end. _Oh hell. At least it's Severus._ I would be fine, win or lose. I trusted Severus, too. He wouldn't harm me, but that didn't mean he would be easy on me. The look on his face as he tossed aside his outer robes told me that.

He loosened the top buttons on his frock coat and tugged free his cravat. He nodded to me and drew his wand. Apparently, this was the moment for preparations. Embarrassed, I recalled my wand placement. This frock of satin lacked the supporting sleeves of my frock coat, so I had holstered my wand on my thigh.

With a quickness and what I hoped was a proud chin, I hiked my loose skirt and retrieved it. Wolf whistles and laughter resounded. I looked at Severus almost apologetically. His brow was raised. I nodded.

The Dark Lord, now at room center, faced us and spoke. "Ready?" I twisted in position. It had been some time since I'd formally dueled. Severus, however, was quick and natural. Admirable, really. "Begin!"

For goddess' sake, this man was _teaching_ Defense Against the Dark Arts. I played my cards conservatively, but the promise of safety and my earlier surge of power emboldened me. I fired off a reducto.

He blocked me, although I noted he rocked on his heels a bit. I was prepared to shield and did so against his relashio. He was out to hurt me, it seemed. _Very well. _"Flecterum!" I felt the push and the will to break him.

His protego sent my spell back at me and I barely managed to deflect it before he was casting again. "Incendio!"

I smiled as I responded. "Summergeous!" The simple spell doused his fiery projectile with a rain of icy water.

The hiss nearly drowned out his answering "incarcerous," but I intercepted and redirected with a "redire maledictionum." He wasn't expecting the old defensive spell, and nearly tripped on the lashes that swiped at his feet. I took advantage and fired off a "stupefy." But even unsettled, Severus deflected easily. My magic was already wavering.

"Perpellum!" His force was spectacular. It penetrated my shield with ease and I was pushed to the table's surface. Twisting to break my fall, my face slammed into the mahogany surface. _Bloody fuck!_ I tasted blood's metallic bite and heard laughter. I also heard Severus' steps approaching across the table.

Like a wounded animal, I lashed out. "Lupusicatrix!"

The four bright red gashes that appeared across his face were deep and brutal. I scrambled to my feet and prepared to cast again, Slytherin enough to take advantage of a wounded warrior. But this warrior was not wounded enough, and he was close enough to use his physical force to easily end our duel.

His hand snapped from his face to my wrist. I felt his blood smear across my skin as he pulled none too gently. "Severus!" I gasped. My wand was wrenched in the air by his grip. My other hand flew to his wand hand, but I wasn't strong enough to prevent it leveling beneath my chin. The tip prodded into the soft tissue of my neck, and I was strangely struck by the fact we both had wands of ebony…

"Yield," he growled. I smelled his blood. "Yield, witch!" The hand gripping my wrist bent and I yelped in true pain.

"Damn you!" He would break my wrist!

"Yield, Narcissa!" This a lower hiss directly in my ear.

I capitulated, knowing it was for my own good. "I yield."

Shouts and raucous congratulations filled the room. Severus slowly released my wrist, but plucked my wand. I was almost flattered by the gesture… It suggested he feared me.

The Dark Lord again calmed the masses. "I hold your fates in my hands!" He cried out. "Just as I do hers!" He pointed at me. "And should any of you betray me, I will do far worse than put a Death Eater in your bed for the night!" Quieter, he looked up at me. "Remember this, Narcissa. You believe this is your home, but it is mine. All that was your husband's is mine – and that includes you and your son. So show me your loyalty and your modesty, or I will give you to every man in this room. Am I understood?"

I dropped to my knees, shaking with both fear and spent magic. "I understand." I bowed my head til my forehead touched the table. His claw rested on the back of my head.

"Good." His voice raised again. "Well, Severus! Will you take her here for our enjoyment? Or do you have more private plans for the witch?"

Laughter. My sister's screeching cackle stood out above them all. Tears squeezed from my eyes. _Goddess, please. Don't let this happen to me._ I heard Severus jump to the floor. He approached his master with a bowed head. "With all due respect, my lord. I've waited…a long time for this opportunity. I would prefer to enjoy it alone." He spread his hands. "Unless, of course, it would please my master to watch?"

I whimpered. Voldemort's claw left my head and he chuckled. "You've earned your prize, Severus. Take her away as you will – with my blessing."

"Thank you, my lord." Severus' hand closed around my elbow. He tugged, and I slid off the table. I didn't dare look up. Too many eyes would be taunting me, and my sister's would be the worst. I followed Severus meekly; relieved the ordeal was over, knowing I would be unharmed, but somehow wanting to leave my body just the same.

Safe in my room, I sighed. Rubbed my the chill from my arms. How to thank him for this? First my son, now my dignity. I felt I owed him my very life. I would tell him just that. "Severus." When I turned, he was shrugging out of his frock coat. I tensed, eyes widening. "What…what are you doing?"

He grimaced and gestured to the bed. "What do you think?"

I shook my head. _No no no. _"You can't be serious."

"And when Bella looks into your mind tomorrow? Or mine? Or worse – the Dark Lord himself? What will you have them see, Narcissa?" He sat methodical at the end of my bed and removed his boots and socks. He performed a quick healing charm on his slashed face, still holding my wand in his left hand. "Us sharing a game of wizard's chess? Swapping anecdotes of Draco's boyhood antics?"

I cringed at the mention of my son and wrapped my arms more tightly around myself. "I thought –"

"I know what you thought." He sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands.

I'd never seen this wizard look defeated or off-put in any way, and I suddenly realized he didn't want to do this, either. "Isn't there some other way?" I sounded so damned naïve.

Severus chuffed ruefully. "Even if we manufactured memories they would never match. And there isn't time." He looked up at me. "I'll obliviate you afterwards, if you wish. It would mean a legilimens would have to delve a bit, but…"

I felt a stone drop in my belly. I didn't relish either option. "No. What about you?"

His face was half hidden by a sheet of lank hair, but I saw a shadowed smirk there. "I've endured far worse…punishments." I blushed and he rose to remove his trousers. I wondered how he could be so casual.

My fingers fiddled at the clasp behind my neck. There were several hooks and eyes. Severus placed our wands side by side on the nightstand. "Let me." His voice was low and near my ear. It was a lovely thing… I turned and surrendered to this inevitability. "I won't hurt you, you know." I nodded. His fingers brushed my hair aside. I felt his rough knuckles rasp against my back as he unhooked my bodice. Draco's skin was so soft.

"Severus." I had to know. "Have you really wanted me? Like you said? Or was that just…" Even the pads of his fingers were rough. He pushed my dress from my shoulders, and when he answered my question, his lips lingered close over my skin.

"I've wondered," he admitted. "I doubt there is a wizard who's seen you who has not imagined what it would be like – " those rough fingers brushed my ribs – "to touch you like this." The fingers barely stroked the sides of my breasts and my breath hitched. "To have one night with you." The hands cupped then palmed my breasts, fingers rolling my nipples gently.

"Oh, gods!" I couldn't control the gasp. He was seducing me. I appreciated the gesture and relented further, leaned into his strength and felt the evidence of his arousal pressing above my arse. "Will you kiss me?" I don't know why I asked, why I wanted, why my voice was so needy to my ears.

"Yes," he said.

I turned, clenched the linen of his shirt in my shaking hands and offered my mouth up. Severus had pretty lips for a man. They felt uncertain on mine, but when I began working his shirt buttons, the kiss intensified til our tongues just touched – the way Draco kissed. I moaned, and the wizard was undone.

He rubbed my frock down over my hips, backed me to my bed, pushed me onto it and crawled over me. We paused to breathe and the flames in the floo played on the planes of his face, lit those black eyes to their deep brown. The ache and emptiness in my gut turned to butterflies. I nodded to him, and he kissed his way down my body.

I closed my eyes and sought solace in his strange, gentle and firm touches, his curious, salacious mouth. I simply…forgot who I was, forgot who he was. Severus? Narcissa? We were just a man and a woman, nameless. No futures. No pasts. I told him to mark me, so that Bella and her master would see. But I doubt he needed my instruction.

I gave him what I felt I owed him and more that night. Just a few hours. Still, it was only once. One bright moment… He couldn't stay, he explained. "Draco…"

I nodded. He was still heavy atop me, heavy in my arms. I released him, and he didn't linger. He dressed as briskly as he'd undressed. I sat up and cradled my knees.

"I'm sorry." His words were solemn. The dimness and warmth caressed them. He was all in black again, buttoned as a priest and yes, severe.

"For saving me from who knows what indignities?" I asked. "For protecting my son and now myself?" I scoffed softly. "It is I who owe you an apology, Severus. And so much more." I hoped the tears didn't show in my eyes.

"I should like to call us even, Narcissa." Far away, his eyes were back to black, but I knew the heat that resided there.

I gave him a shaky smile. "Very well."

A curt nod. "I shall deliver your missive to your son. And rest assured I…shall watch over him. And…"

He cleared his throat. "Good evening." His cloak swirled around him like an ink spill as he quietly left my room.

In retrospect, I have one regret regarding that evening: that it was all I could give to him.

The months following held no tenderness for me. Draco did not write me again. The Dark Lord paced and muttered to himself, hissed to his great snake. He came and went more often; questing, Bella said. Once humbled, I was in her favor again.

She became sympathetic again, attentive and doting. She informed me of things, included me. She told me they were nearly ready – that Draco was nearly done repairing the cabinet – that the time was close. And one night in June, she woke me to tell me she was leaving.

"You'll see, Cissy." She stroked my face. "Draco will make you proud. He'll be home soon a hero! Hailed by us all! And once Dumbledore is dead…the war will be nearly won."

I got up and dressed. It stormed outside the manor. I wrung my hands walking the entrance hall. Thunder preceded the clatter of the doors opening. My heart beat as loudly. I rushed to the archway, a hand over my chest.

Bella's face was the first I saw. "Oh, Cissy!" She cackled. So they were successful. She kissed my cheeks. Thorfinn Rowle, Yaxley and Greyback entered next. Panic collected in my throat. Rain blew in through the wide open doors. The Carrows stumbled inside.

Then I saw my son.

"Draco," I whispered. I was breathless.

He caught my eyes, but barely seemed to see me. He was ashen, ghastly pale. His eyes looked bloodshot. I smelled smoke on them, saw some ash dotting Draco's black suit. The clatter and chatter surrounding me muted. I approached him hesitantly, folded him in my arms. He did not return the embrace.

_Oh, gods. He did it. _Tears stung my eyes. I tried to hold them back so hard my throat ached. "Son," I said, burying my face in his shoulder. The slam of a door pulled me to my senses. I straightened, held Draco at arms length. Over his shoulder, I saw Severus pull his hand away from the door.

He turned and I saw his face. The black eyes that I knew once held heat now did not. My grief twisted to relief, then back to grief. So Draco was not Dumbledore's murderer, after all. My hands held my son's limp elbows as the Death Eaters took to the stairs, shoving, laughing and celebrating.

For the first time, I felt the wet of Draco's clothes, the chill on my skin. Severus' eyes slid to mine, then away like oil. The chill deepened as he billowed away to the Dark Lord. Our vow had been honored.

The enemy was dead.

**AN: **Whew. One more chapter. Thanks to BeautifulDisaster, Lady Bella, Cherepaha, DoIHaveTo, Greyella and all who have taken the time to review. Special shanks always to my dragon for all the advice, encouragement and inspiration.


	10. Word Over All

The Hands of the Sisters

_Word Over All_

The night of Dumbledore's murder, Draco was detained by the Dark Lord upon his return. I was not invited to the meeting, nor did I want to attend. But I did worry for my son – that he would be punished for his failure. I retired to my room to fret in private. I expected Bella would come to tell me of any significant news. I expected Draco would… Well, I didn't know what to expect of Draco.

The storm worsened. My head grew heavy. I put on my nightgown and curled into my bed. It was so late. I drifted to sleep, and woke when the feather mattress shifted. "Bella?" I murmured, rolling to face my visitor.

"No. Not Bella."

"Draco!" I threw my arms about his neck. And finally, I felt his hands on my skin. He clutched me to him, buried his face in my hair, my neck. He was inhaling me.

"Mother."

"Have they left?"

"All but Snape. He and the Dark Lord are talking now."

I pulled back and took his face in my hands. "Were you punished? Are you hurt?"

Draco chuffed dark laughter. "No. Bloody Snape… He piped up and claimed he wanted Dumbledore's death for himself or some rot…" He stood and undressed, dropping his clothes to the floor. "I'm being touted for my abilities to get the Death Eaters into teased, of course, for not killing an old man." He climbed – naked and unashamed – into my bed. "Aunt Bella is being called my 'mentor' and 'teacher.'" He collapsed into the mattress, still smiling ruefully. "Such utter fucking bollocks." He stroked my face when I leaned on my elbow. "The truth is I'm a coward, Bella's psychotic in the extreme and Snape is…" He trailed off.

I bit my lip. "Snape is what?"

He stared at the bed canopy. "Snape I haven't quite figured yet. Bella says one thing, you say another. And then I hear – "

"I don't want to talk about Snape." I spoke too quickly.

"Well, I don't want to talk about watching a wizard's murder! He offered to protect me…" I cringed. "Christ, it hasn't even really set in, yet. Pick a topic, mum. I feel numb."

I put a hand on his chest. His heart was beating beautifully. "Can we just hold each other?"

He looked at me. His eyes shone in the gloom and he nodded, pulled me into his arms. He cradled me and I cried my relief onto his bare skin. After a while, I felt him crying, too. I said nothing – just shifted until I cradled him. We finally slept.

The following weeks were a blur of activity. The house stayed full of Death Eaters. The Ministry of Magic fell with a barely audible groan. Muggle-borns and half-bloods were being collected for 'questioning;' they called these "dark times." So did I.

Severus summered at the Manor. I suspect that he was wanted until the Department of Magical Law Enforcement folded. He kept to himself. I saw him a few times in passing and we nodded civilly. He was the Dark Lord's champion now and Bella despised him for it. She practically hissed in Severus' presence, and I knew she boiled for a chance to exact vengeance. It was a dark distraction for her, making her more sullen and dangerous than ever. I walked on eggshells when she was near, and tried to remain out of her line of sight.

It wasn't terribly difficult. She volunteered for every mission the Dark Lord set forth and accomplished them with grisly aplomb. His pride was her nectar.

Draco and I had a hidden summer. We lazed in bed when the house was full, warded into oblivion and exhausted by heat and desperate sex. Sometimes, we escaped to the grounds or to the old greenhouse we'd cleaned up. We found an oasis in the dense overgrown tropicals and made love amid the smells of dirt, fertilizer and sweet, heady blossoms. We were by nature and birth pale people, but I watched his color and appetite return with my gentle succor and our relative peace.

And so it came to pass that the Dark Lord mechanized Severus' instatement as Hogwarts' new Headmaster. There were many who spoke out against the selection. Once those many began to die off early, the few left withdrew their protests. After all, who was left to hear their cries?

There was even a dinner to celebrate. Draco and I attended in our finery, seated across from the celebrated himself. Bella and Draco were on either side of me, glaring at Severus with their respective glares. I tried to avoid seeing him altogether, but the few times I did find his face, his eyes were on me. At the center of this cryptic triptych, I was so unnerved I occasionally dropped my silver.

Severus left the dinner early, scheduled to assume leadership (dictatorship) at Hogwarts early the next day. I retired soon after him, retreating to my room and a bath. I was interrupted a half hour later by the blustering arrival of my enraged son.

He threw open the lavatory door so hard it banged off of the wall. "Draco!" I sloshed up amid bubbles to face him. "What the hell is –"

"Did you fuck him?" He seethed, wand clutched at his side.

_Oh, goddess please. Let me die now. And kill my sister, too. _I closed my eyes. "Draco…"

"I know Bella's insane, so I _want_ to give you the benefit of my dubious doubt. But somehow I have the ominous feeling I am in error in my magnanimity."

My son could be remarkably eloquent when infuriated. "I assume you speak of Severus."

"I speak of Snape!" He snapped. "The filthy half-blood traitor amongst us!"

"You let Bella's opinion sway your better judgment!" I snapped back. "There were circumstances you could not understand! Severus saved me from – "

"Yes, yes. I already heard the story! Bella tells me you were already his mistress, though. That you –"

"Bella tells you LIES!" I surged from the water, shaking from the cold air and icy tile. I snatched my towel from the nearby chair. My voice quavered. My stomach churned and I vomited _everything _– all the shame, guilt and self-pity. "Your aunt is unhinged! And I am coming to believe I am, as well! Yes, I shared a bed with Severus! One night! He being the lesser of a hundred death-eating evils! And what does that make me but a whore to be pimped by the Dark Lord, an adulterous wife and incestuous slut for my son, and a slatternly servant to my sadistic sister! I _know_ these things and need not your reproach to remind me! Goddamnit, Draco!"

I felt that surge again in my belly – this time too quick to control. The mirror over the sink shattered loudly, raining silver shards. A large porcelain vase in the window exploded, too. I shrieked and we ducked to avoid the small, sharp projectiles.

I felt static crackling over my _prickled_ skin. I breathed deeply, clung to the towel wrapped round me, and raised my eyes to my son's.

There were at least six shades of shock on his face. He arose and approached me slowly, cautiously. I remained crouched against the tub, knees too shaky to stand. "Mother." He knelt at my side and reached for my cold hand. The shock in his eyes melted to devastation. "Forgive me!"

Then I was in his arms. Then he was carrying me. He piled the thick duvet around me and climbed onto the bed behind me, hugging me tight to his chest. "I shouldn't have believed her. I should have known." His lips caressed my scalp, rubbed over my wet hair. Suddenly a pained cry wrenched from him. "I should have known she'd… Oh, _gods_! Mother, how could she do that to you?" He was rocking me.

I said nothing more. I'd said more than enough. Instead, I watched in silence as Draco warded us in and dressed in soft pajama pants. He arranged me like a doll in our bed, folding me against him. I felt…quite completely knackered. "I'll kill her," he growled.

"No, Draco." I stroked his arm.

Quiet. Then, "Did he hurt you? Snape?"

"No, Draco."

"Did you like it?"

I shook my head. Too bloody difficult… "Better than Greyback," I whispered.

"He did it to protect you."

I nodded. I could almost feel his thoughts complicate in the darkness. There was another long pause. I wanted to sleep so badly, but I knew there was more inside him. My fault, really.

"You regret us. This."

I nodded, felt the tears come.

His voice was thick. "Then we can stop."

"Can we?" I sobbed.

He kissed my temple, sniffed helplessly in my ear. "I don't want to."

I spun in his arms, saw his own tear streaked face a mirror of my own. "Me either," I admitted and kissed him. He groaned in my mouth and covered me like a shadow over the moon. The magic that had earlier burst so violently now rolled a lapping tide into my belly. It was deep and unexplainable. I knew I was _changing_ somehow, but all that mattered at that moment was the current of my son's power spilling into mine.

He slowed it, tamed it. His hands stroked my body to fire while gentling my magic. Something dwelled within each of us that reached out for its same and finding it, was completed. But soon he would be gone again – back at Hogwarts for term. I stroked his fine, sticky hair as we caught our breath in the heated sheets. What would I do without him this time? I worried this unpredictable witchery in me would boil over. I wondered if I might not welcome that…

As if sensing my thoughts, Draco murmured in the moonlight. "Mother."

"Mm?"

His arms tightened around me. "Whatever happened in the loo… Let it come when it does."

I kissed his head. "I don't think I could stop it if I wanted to."

"Good."

When he left for Hogwarts in September, I didn't worry for him. I had no doubts that my son would fare well under a Death Eater's regime. And it was highly unlikely Potter would return to the school as he was considered Undesirable Number One – unless he was a fool. Though given the golden boy's propensity for ridiculous decisions that landed him in terrible peril, he just might return there, after all. Part of me hoped he would – let it all end quickly. But the most secret part of me…

"Cissy?"

I stepped away from my window. Bella stood in my door. She looked more unhinged than usual. "Yes?"

"You should come to the drawing room at once. The Dark Lord requests you."

"Oh?" My lip curled. "Has he another hostler for me to service?"

Bella shrugged. "In a way," she answered dismissively.

I pulled a black velvet frock coat over my silver satin dress. I could never seem to have enough layers in Riddle's presence. On the first floor, I saw several official types leaving my home. It seemed early in the afternoon for a meeting. I nodded to the wizards.

In the parlor archway, Bella stood attempting to hide a smile behind her hand. When she saw me approaching, the smile went full force. I was trying to ignore her when a miserable, guttural groan chilled my very blood.

I saw the Dark Lord, wand resting at his side. He stood appraisingly over the most miserable creature I'd ever seen. It coiled and curled in the lingering spasms of a cruciatus curse. I smelled filth and fresh vomit. Dread curled my shoulders, brought the back of my hand to my mouth. I stepped forward as Voldemort stepped away and…

_No. No!_ I retched and stumbled, reached without touching. "Lucius?" At the sound of my voice, he rolled toward me. His body seemed disjointed and angular. He was bones and bile and the filthy robes of Azkaban. "Lucius."

Sunken eyes squeezed closed. Tears poured down his filthy, unshaven face. Mucus crusted his nose and upper lip. He opened his chapped mouth to speak, but only a crackling croon emerged. I saw his hand with its bloodied fingers and ripped nails clamor for me. Numb, I grabbed it. "Oh, Lucius."

"Pitiful." The Dark Lord spoke, still standing over me, looming like a gargoyle. "Be a good wife and see to his needs. We've an important meeting soon and I want him present in all faculties...for what they are worth." His bare, awful feet slapped away.

Bathing my husband was like bathing a corpse. His emaciated body was completely unresponsive. I'd levitated him to the bath, then to the bed where I tucked him in like a traumatized child. He clutched at me constantly, leaned upon me or breathed in my scent. In the bed, he pulled me down beside him. "Narcissa," he rasped.

"Go to sleep," I said. Apathy sharpened my tone. It was his fault, after all – all of it… What did he expect of me?

"I can't." The sobbing began. His tears and snot soaked my gown at the hip, where his fetally curled head rested. "I shall never sleep again…"

Relenting, I stroked his hair, shushed him soothingly. "Quiet, Lucius. You shall sleep. And tomorrow you shall eat. And perhaps I shall cut your hair?" He sniffled. My lip curled. What was this needy, weak thing wanting my attention, while my son was proving himself a wizard? It was my husband, and it disgusted me.

Draco attended meetings, so I saw him often. He looked better, if not well. He was rested, it seemed, and I was secure that his current student status protected him from the fervent activities devoted to 'the cause.' Namely, Harry Potter was on the move. He could not be found by Death Eater or snatcher. Amazing, three teenagers eluding the greatest wizard of all time… I liked the irony despite the danger.

Lucius did little more than quiver and quake in his Master's presence, especially now he was wandless. I attended always beside him, staring straight at the wall, and occasionally touching his arm when he missed a question or comment. Bella moved closer to the Dark Lord with every meeting. Soon, she and Severus were facing off across the table.

Something had Riddle violently distracted. He moved about even when the Manor was empty, hissing to his snake and stroking his shining pate. But I would not know what kept him so preoccupied until much later… He simply kept us in suspended animation.

Lucius had recovered somewhat. He dressed himself, for the most part. He couldn't seem to button a collar or tuck a shirttail, but he did dress himself. Mostly, he drank and ignored Bella's sharp teasing. He looked like hell, and smelled like a man who had to be reminded by his wife to bathe himself. He didn't seem to question our separate sleeping arrangements. I suppose he remembered we hadn't shared a bed for years…

Bella. Bella was…an evolution in witchcraft. She spent hours practicing spells of her own creation, increasing her nauseating collection of dead things. She tugged at her own hair so much that I constantly picked up shanks of it from the floors. Sometimes, she laughed at nothing, or stared catlike at a point on the wall. She was restless, and would remain so until Beltane, when she found a violent outlet for her consuming energies…

It had happened too quickly…Potter was here – in our grasp – and then he wasn't. I knew. I knew my son was lying. I knew he recognized the boy – the chosen one. Hell, even I recognized him through his hexed and swollen features.

In the space of moments, I saw my family's decimation – its utter demise. I saw my wandless husband blasted by a boy, my devastated son struggling for his own wand – his sanity. I saw my sister loosed entirely, slipped from her leash – her hinges magically vanished. She tortured that girl…I can't…even…

There was naught I could do! And I felt the helplessness just as strong, ebbing in waves off my son while my husband watched with empty eyes and a glass of wine.

I admit now: I was glad of the damned elf. Glad it came and took them away. I'd cleaned enough blood from my floors, crawled through the cooling, gelling gore like some servant of Cerberus. Never again.

So they were gone. I shook with fear of the coming war, with shock at being disarmed, that aching vulnerability. I watched them apparate – the innocent ones – and I wished my son was among them, headed to someplace hidden, someplace safe.

Bella's dagger flew. I watched her turn in slow motion, her hair coiling and striking like snakes, her eyes a horror of fury, her mouth wide on a scream I didn't hear. And then, I was being pushed or pulled away. The thickness in my ears cleared and I heard a muffled word. "Mother!"

Draco was shaking me, pulling me. "Your wand," he whispered. "Come. Let's get your wand." We were stumbling across the drawing room. Bella was screaming like a wounded animal. My husband was scrambling with difficulty from the dusty floo.

"How dare they?" Bella raged. "Your fucking useless elf! Lucius! You should have killed it long ago, you fucking fool!"

Draco was pressing my wand hilt into my hand. "Someone has to have a wand," he began. But he was savagely jerked away from me.

"You bloody useless little gobshite!" Bella threw Draco to the floor. He slid a few feet away. "You ruined everything! Now we'll all suffer!" Her ire turned on me, dropped to a simmer. "Give me your wand."

I knew she was insane, but she was truly deranged if she imagined for one moment… "No," I breathed.

She scoffed, extended her hand. "Don't be a daft cunt, Cissy. I need a wand. And I'm the only one useful enough among this lot to have one. So hand it over."

I heard Draco lifting Lucius to his feet, checking on him. I heard Bella's boots scrape on the chandelier's scattered glass. I felt the pulse in my belly and a muscle jumping in my neck. "Take it," I said. I pulled myself tense. My fingers tightened on my wand's hilt, silver studs imprinting in my tender palm.

Her narrowed eyes widened in utter disbelief. Draco appeared at my side. "Mum," he whispered. One of his hands touched my back, the other slid down the inside of my elbow. He must have felt the tingle emanating from me. Bella was speaking.

"You've already made enough stupid mistakes, Cissy. When the Dark Lord arrives will you have him see me without a wand? Will you have _him_ take yours? Like he did your husband's?" She grew more shrill with each word. "What _exactly _do you want, you senseless princess? _Think!_"

I didn't need to think. To Draco's surprise, I passed my wand into his hand, never removing my eyes from my sister. "I want you," I seethed, "to leave me and my family ALONE!" Without effort, I raised my hand to her, palm flat. The push I felt inside me exploded outward and I watched passively as my sister crashed through the air and slammed into the wall between two tall windows. Even Draco staggered a few paces away from me.

Bella dropped boneless to the floor. I looked behind me at my son. He propped on his elbows, staring up at me in awe. "Mother…" He rose shakily and proffered my wand again.

I waved it away. "Keep it. You'll need it."

"Narcissa?"

My eyes snapped to my shocked husband. "Lucius." A sudden flood of exhaustion made me sway on my feet. I needed to master this power before it mastered me...

Draco dusted himself clean. "We should prepare. No doubt the Dark Lord will arrive soon."

I looked at my unconscious sister. "Let him come."

**AN:** Sorry for the long wait. One more chapter, and endings are always the hardest. Thanks to my loyal readers and reviewers - always. And to the dragon for all the advice. 'Reconciliation' to come...and maybe a little more of Narcissa being a badass.


	11. Reconciliation

The Hands of the Sisters

_Reconciliation_

She knocked on my door. It was the first sign I had that not all was well in Bella's already muddled head.

I looked at Draco, seated cross-legged on my bed. He nodded.

"Come in," I called. She blew through my door winded and wide-eyed.

"You wretched bitch," she spat. "How dare you?"

Draco rose. I felt him behind me.

"Both of you!" Bella pointed a shaking finger. "You leave your sister wandless and unconscious! _Knowing _that the Dark Lord was coming!" She pulled at a fistful of her own hair. "Do you know what he did?" She paced. I noticed an occasional tremble in her arms. "He was so…so angry…"

She braced both hands against the wall beside my lavatory. Sobs wracked her emaciated frame. "We ran, you know…like cowards. We all just…ran…" She crumpled to the floor.

Cautiously, I approached her. "Bella."

"He killed so many." She looked up at me. Her left eye was bright with burst blood vessels. "He would have killed me, Cissy."

I kicked her hand away from my ankle. "Is Lucius dead?"

She shook her head. "He's hiding, I think." She worried her bottom lip with her fingers. "I think…" Then she grasped my skirt suddenly. "How?" Her eyes were fanatical. "How did you do it? With no wand? Show me." I staggered away from her. "Show me, Cissy!" Her cry was desperate.

"I don't know!" I yelled at her. Draco pulled me to his chest, soothing me with whispers. "I feel it! To protect my son, myself… I _feel_ it, Bella." I pointed my own shaking finger. "And you've forgotten how to feel!"

"Mother." I shrugged away from Draco, stood over my stymied sister. "From now on, you keep away from me, Bella. And from Draco. You and your psychopathic master both."

"He'll kill you, you fool," she hissed. "Hearing you talk this way…"

"What have I to lose? You told me once I would fight my own battles, sister. And now I am. The side I'm on is my own – and my son's. I will do whatever is necessary to keep him alive."

Bella lashed out at me bare-handed, screeching. "How dare you! You would betray us all? When the Final Battle comes and Potter is before him – "

"I never said I would betray you." I dropped to my knees to face her, grappled till I secured her wrists tightly in my hands. "I simply fight for myself now." I looked to my son. "And so does Draco. We will do what it takes to survive…and what is right."

"We shall see." Bella licked her chapped lips. Her eyes flicked to Draco. "We're confined here, now. To the manor. And I need a wand. Lucius and I both…" She broke down again.

I rose stiffly and approached my wardrobe. The box I produced from my stocking drawer contained two wands. I offered both to Bella. "This one is mother's," I said. "And this one is Aunt Laguena's." I thrust the second at her. She deserved it.

She clamored to her feet and snatched the swishy walnut from my hand. "And Draco?"

"Draco has my wand."

"Cissy, you can't – "

"I can do what I want!" I held out the ash wand. "Give this one to Lucius."

Bella turned from me, opened the door. "You give it to him." She gave Draco a withering glare. "He's your husband, _Nar-cis-sah_." The door slammed behind her.

Draco sighed. "Mother…she's right. You need your wand."

"No, I don't." I folded his fingers around the hilt of my ebony masterpiece. "It will…serve you well. You'll need it soon."

He nodded solemnly, darkness edging his features. "Will you see father, then?" I nodded. His face went even stonier. "Will you come back here tonight?"

My eyes searched his. A boy should _not_ be jealous of his own father. _What have I done?_ But I nodded. "Of course, Draco."

The manor's halls were quiet and dark. I smelled flesh and iron from downstairs. I didn't want to know. Lucius was where I suspected he would be, leaning defeated on the desk in his study. I stared at him through the doors for a moment.

In the moonlight, his profile was sharp, chin and nose almost cutting. He'd lost so much weight. His hair hung in oily strips, creating negative spaces above his drooping shoulders. As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw he was expressionless.

"Lucius." I pronounced it Loo-cee-us. Just his head turned.

"Narcissa."

I entered the room holding the wand hilt to him. "What is this?"

"It was mother's," I explained. "Keep it hidden on you."

Lucius shook his head. "I don't think he wants me to have – "

"Don't be stupid!" I snapped. "Take it! If he doesn't kill you, one of the others will try."

He took the wand, slid it into his sleeve. "Are you alright?"

"No," I answered honestly.

He chuffed ruefully. "And Draco?"

"He will be fine." I started to leave. There was nothing more to say.

"Narcissa." He caught hold of my elbow. I hadn't heard him move. "Can you remember when we were happy?"

I pulled away. "I can't remember when I was not afraid, Lucius!"

He reached for me again, desperate. "You hate me now."

"Yes!" I shoved his hands away. "Don't touch me! Never again."

He stumbled into the doorframe. "I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm…I'm so sorry."

I left him in his misery, happy to scurry back to my familiar wards and the warmth of my son's arms. "Mother," Draco murmured in my hair. "You're upset. I should have gone to father." His fingers were unhooking the back of my dress. I suddenly wanted to slap him.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "He's my husband." Draco's fingers, slipping up and down my bared spine, froze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Stop apologizing!" I shoved him to the bed. He stumbled half onto it. "I'm sick of hearing apologies. And you owe me none, so shut up." I stripped off my dress. Draco looked at me with a mixture of fear and anticipation. "Undress," I snapped.

He did.

I pressed him into the mattress. "I know it shall end soon," I said, kissing him. "And whether for good or bad, I just want to know I did what was right." His hands felt so good caressing my sides. My throat threatened to close. "I want to know that I tried, Draco. I want to know you lived, that someone lived because of me!"

"Mother." He nuzzled my neck, kissed my jaw.

I straddled him urgently, took his hardness into my hand. "I want to know that for every death I've witnessed there are a hundred still alive." I wasn't quite wet. But the burn of him entering me was galvanizing. Tears squeezed from my eyes and Draco swiped at them. "I want to know _life_ in case death takes me!"

He suddenly wrapped me in a tight embrace and rolled me beneath him. "Then we do what's right," he whispered. His thrusts were quick and shallow, strumming the chord he'd learned. I hummed. "And we live while we can."

We lived in the moments of pleasure before the battle; the Dark Lord lived in the moments of agony. Captives came and went from my cellars, some murdered, some tortured to oblivion. Some I knew, some I knew not. I watched Bella's madness flower and wither and flower again, while Lucius simply withered.

On May first, Draco and I were jarred from our bed-haven by screaming from downstairs. Some miserable creature was dying in a fury. We rushed into clothes and down the stairs. Lucius met us on the landing, grabbing our arms and shaking his head. "Don't," he muttered. "He's angry."

I heard Bella screaming and sobbing in the drawing room. "What's happened?" I asked.

"Gringott's was breached today. Bella's vault…something was stolen…something important." He shook his head, winced in that peculiar tic he'd developed.

"What was stolen?" Draco was trying to peer around his father's shoulder.

"I don't know." Lucius pushed at us. "Go. Go!"

I heard the zing of magic, Bella's shouts for mercy. I smelled ozone and fear. I gripped Lucius' shoulder, tried to see inside the drawing room. Draco wrenched me away by the hand. "Come, mother. Upstairs." I looked back once more on the stairs to see Lucius watching us climb. When he met my eyes, he looked away, and walked calmly into the drawing room.

Bella came to my room later and knocked timidly. I was surprised to see her. "Sister." She looked a bit dazed. "Are you…are you alright, Bella?"

"Something is happening," she answered. "Perhaps tonight. He believes Potter will go back to Hogwarts."

I glanced at Draco.

"Cissy?" She meandered to my vanity, straddled the cushioned bench.

"Yes, Bella?"

"Sit." She patted the bench across from her. "Let me brush your hair." Were there tears in her eyes?

"Mum?" Draco was nervous. I calmed him with a raised hand.

"Go to your room for a bit, son. Please." He touched the small of my back as he left, cast a suspicious look at Bella. "I'll come to you soon." He nodded.

"Good-bye, little dragon," Bella sang very softly. She didn't look at him, but picked at the brocade beneath her.

Draco paused. "Good-bye, Auntie Bella." At the snick of the door closing, I sat before Bella and gave her my back in a gesture of trust. I hoped I wasn't being a fool.

She scooted a little closer. "Your hairs grown so long, Cissy. Will you keep it this way?"

"Perhaps." The brush felt nice, and she tugged at the ends in that soothing way she knew.

"It's silky still." She smoothed it. I'd never felt such gentleness from her hands, such grace. She reached onto my vanity and lifted an ornate onyx hair clip. Soon, my hair was secured away from my face, falling in a shining sheet down my back. "Very pretty." Her voice was distant and sweet.

"Thank you, Bella." I turned my head to look at her. She was reaching into a drawer.

"Turn around." She made a twirling gesture and smiled. "Let me paint your nails."

I shifted per her request, worry creasing my forehead. "Have we time, sister?"

She met my eyes with startling clarity in her own. "Yes, there's time, Cissy." She held up a bottle or bright red varnish. "There's always time." Her wand flicked toward the wireless, and she hummed while she painted. I detected a very slight tremble in her usually sure hands.

A wand wave over my fingers dried the varnish instantly. The red was almost garish. "Lovely," I whispered.

"It will be so different after tonight, Cissy." Bella tilted my chin up to face her. "We will be so perfect together. So powerful."

I nodded. "Yes, Belle." I took her hand in mine. I thought of Bella as a girl; saw her moving down the hall of our girlhood home, giggling, curls bouncing; I saw her waving at me from the Hogwarts Express, tossing me a chocolate frog; I saw her on her wedding day – the last time she'd been a true, inarguable beauty – in yards of silver silk, wreathed with white gardenias. I could almost smell the blossoms… "Yes, Belle." My own tears threatened.

She leaned forward. I didn't stop her – just closed my eyes. The tears spilled over, hot and cooling as they raced down my face.

Her lips were full and pouty pressed to mine. I let the feeling sink deeply, imprint on my soul. I memorized the touch. I wanted to recall it like the smell of gardenias. I wanted to reconcile _my_ Bella with the creature that had tormented me so recently. I wanted to _love_ my sister again…because somehow I knew this would be my last chance.

Her other hand scrambled for mine on the bench. I twined our fingers together. Our hands were ribbons tying. She placed one of mine over her heart. I felt the organ beating strongly beneath taut leather, and I returned the gesture.

Bella broke the kiss suddenly. She pulled away and slid her hands from mine. "You should dress," she said, rising.

I wiped my tears and controlled the quaver in my voice. I was dressed already… "Dress for what, sister?"

She looked at me again with that strange calm. "For war." And she left my room. I stared at the empty space before me, at the red varnish on my nails. I looked in my mirror and was struck by how pretty I was. And she wanted me to dress for war?

But war came. The Death Eaters converged first on the manor. The foyer and drawing room were thick with robes and masked faces. I sought out my son and found him near his father. "Draco!" He pulled me aside.

"I'm to look for Potter," he said quickly. "In the castle."

I looked into his silver grey eyes, saw the steel there. "Of course," I replied, grasping his shoulders. In the background, I heard Bella's screaming laugh and fanatical screechings. Not caring in the least who saw, I hugged my son. He hugged me back, but stiffly. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He pressed a cloaked kiss to my forehead. "I'll be fine."

"Narcissa!" Lucius called. Draco stepped away, and I looked at my husband. "You'll wait in the forest with a clutch of others. If Potter comes there, we'll be informed immediately." I nodded, stepped out of time. The doors flung open and I heard the smoky departures of Riddle's followers.

My son met me eyes one last time as he stepped through the doors. I blinked, and he'd apparated. Then my husband's hands were on me. "Come," he said. "I'll side-along with you to the forest." I was navigated through the masses and outside.

"He'll be alright, won't he?" I asked Lucius.

He nodded tightly. "Hold on."

I stumbled when we touched down on the uneven ground. Other pops and hisses sounded around us. Lucius steadied me, then stepped away. "I'll be back," he said.

"Lucius!" But he popped away. I was surrounded by strangers in silver faces…and the hours of waiting descended.

I didn't see the shields surrounding Hogwarts fall. I'm glad I didn't. My gut was a torrent of worry and despair as it was. The sounds of battle echoed throughout the cave behind us. I lingered on the outskirts of the group, near the trail that led out of the forest. I longed to follow that trail, to find my way to my son, to take him away…

Then I heard pops and activity. I rushed back to the camp. Lucius had returned with several others. He saw me above several heads and made his way to me. "The Dark Lord is coming. He's sent Potter an ultimatum and expects the boy to come."

"And if he doesn't?"

"He must!" Lucius ran a hand nervously through his hair.

"And Draco? Have you seen him?" Lucius shook his head impatiently, turned from me. I grabbed him, desperate for any word. "What about Severus? Perhaps he's seen – "

"Severus is dead." Lucius moved away again.

My hands fell limp at my sides. I chilled, then numbed. Severus was dead… I saw his eyes, his brown eyes warm with fire-flecks. Somewhere, they were dark and empty now. His hands that had been so gentle, so hesitant and curious on my body were cold and curled.

I covered my mouth on a choking sob and closed my eyes. I hoped he hadn't suffered. A crowd pressed in on me. I breathed deeply and followed the surge. The Dark Lord was among us. Bella clung to him like a shadow. They'd brought the giant.

I waited by Lucius for the Potter boy to come. I thought of my son, of Severus. I watched Bella bend and cower before the manic whim of her master. When the boy finally appeared, I was both relieved and terrified.

When the Killing Curse was cast, I curled into Lucius' shoulder to hide my fear. He did not embrace me. I was still hiding my face when Voldemort's stinging hex hit my arse. "Ouch!" I cried, turning. Nervous, muted laughter rippled through the clutch of murderers.

Riddle pointed at the boy. Lucius pushed me forward. Lips were moving and there were voices, but they all bled together and drowned in the sound of rushing seawater. I staggered toward the boy, nearly tripping over the hem of my long skirt. I was cold despite my quilted frock coat. I rubbed my fingers together as I knelt over him.

_This is Harry Potter._ My heart hammered hard against my ribcage. One hand brushed against soft, ruffled hair. The other reached for his chest. I couldn't feel a thing through his layered shirts, so I scrambled underneath it.

He was warm. His heart…his heart beat beneath my palm. It beat strongly. The sound of rushing water abated. All I heard was the quiet rustle of anxious strangers behind me, and the chirps and cracks of the forest.

I thought of my own heart beating as if it wanted to stop, of my son and Severus and the sacrifices made by so many this night. I remembered Draco's heart beating against mine, our promises to live, to do the right thing. _The right thing._

Curious gazes settled heavier on my back. I shook them off. _Damned if I do and damned if I don't…_

"Is he alive? Draco? Is he alive?" I hoped he heard me.

A nearly imperceptible breath, motion of the lips. "Yes."

_Yes. _I rose before anyone else could approach. "He's dead!" This time, my voice rang out clearly. The victorious roar deafened me, and again I was swept into a crowd. This time, I was moving through them like liquid. I needed to be at Hogwarts.

"Narcissa!" I glanced back. My husband caught up to me. "What are you doing? Stop."

I whirled to face him, felt the magic begin to pulse in my belly. "If I've ever meant a damned thing to you _at all_ you'll come with me to find your son. He's alive."

"How do you know that?"

I twisted away from him. "I know. And we have to find him and leave." _Because gods help us when riddle learns Potter is still alive…and gods help Potter._

Lucius didn't question further, and soon we were racing through the devastated castle crying our son's name. At the entrance to the dungeons, I pushed Lucius away. "Split up," I said. "I'll look in the dorms. You go up."

Fighting erupted and I heard heavy blasts. Lucius took off toward the madness and I rushed down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeons. As I rounded a curve, I collided with my son. "Draco!"

He stared at me as if in disbelief. "Mother!" I braced against the wall when he swept me into his arms. "I've checked. All the Slytherins are out of the dorms. They were locked in. Is Potter…"

I touched a streak of blood on his cheek. "He's alive. We have to go."

"But – "

"Draco, please!" I pulled his hands to my lips. "Please!"

He sighed and kissed me. "Let's go, then." We rushed from the castle, past duels and falling corpses. "Where's father?" He slowed and looked back.

"I don't know." I tugged harder on his hand. _I don't care. _Sun and smoke welcomed us.

"Mother." He tugged harder on my hand. I turned to him.

"What?"

"We can't leave. We can't just run." He looked back to the castle, where a great glow of green magic erupted. "I have to see this through. We have to do the right thing." He started back. I stared after him, wringing my hands. "Come with me!" He shouted over his shoulder, slowing. I rushed to catch up to him.

"Narcissa! Draco!"

It was Lucius calling for us. Draco and I looked at each other in surprise and followed the sound of his voice. He saw us approaching the main entrance and met us. He took Draco's shoulder in one hand and my face in the other. "He's dead."

"What?" I pawed his grimy hand from my face. Panic tightened like a fist on my throat. "Who is dead?"

"The Dark Lord." His eyes burned into mine. "It seems…it seems Potter wasn't dead, after all." I raised my chin defiantly. "We should go now."

"We're staying," Draco said. I nodded and brushed past Lucius. He followed us into the Great Hall.

I froze in the doorway, steadied by my son. The bodies…they were children. I clutched at the wall. "Come on, mum. Perhaps we can help." But I couldn't even stand. I tugged Draco onto the nearest bench beside me. He cradled me. I felt Lucius' arms surround us both.

"Bella!" I suddenly remembered her.

Lucius' hand tightened on my shoulder. I looked up at him. He shook his head. Draco pulled me to his chest. "It's all right, mum. It's all right."

And there it was – directly beneath my ear: my son's heartbeat, strong and steady. I was numb to the world and felt hateful stares heating me. But it was all right.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

_It's all right…_

**AN: **Huge thanks to all of you who've read, reviewed and stuck with this story from beginning to here. There's an epilogue, but nothing too heavy. And thanks for forgiving all my muddled verses: movieverse, bookverse and . I picked and chose. Special thanks to the dragon...for unending patience and listening to all my Bella-bitching.


	12. Epilogue

The Hands of the Sisters

_Epilogue_

I used my sleeved elbow to wipe a drop of sweat from my nose. I smelled fresh, moist dirt on my hands. Despite my care, I knew it was on my nose and cheeks. I huffed and patted the soil down around the base of the shrub, then moved on to the next.

I aimed my wand at the cleared area of ground. "Cavocavo." A hole smooth and round appeared. My bare hands shifted the woody plant into it. I was shoving soil around the roots when a shadow fell across my sun. I shielded my eyes and looked up. Smiled. "Son."

He smiled back. "Mother." He crouched beside me. "More gardenias?"

I nodded. "Yes. Last one."

His clean hands joined mine in settling the last flowering bush into its plot. Our fingers brushed. "Smells wonderful," he murmured.

"I think so." The last of the dirt settled in, he tilted my face up with his fingertips. My eyes darted to the windows overlooking the patio.

"He's passed out in the study."

"Oh." We kissed sloppily. The smells of dirt, gardenia and my son's warm skin overwhelmed me. He pushed me to the ground. I didn't mind at all, wrapped my arms around his slim, firm shoulders.

"Mmm, I've missed you." He nestled between my legs, nuzzled my linen-covered breasts.

He snorted. "You had me last night, mother."

"But I've missed you _today_, dragon." I mussed his fine hair. His fingers were raising my skirt. "Here, Draco?" How did he make me both nervous and aroused at once? "We're both dirty…"

He chuckled. "Yes, we are, Narcissa." I felt the dry soil on his fingers sloughed off on my thigh and then the fingers… I hissed. "And you are very wet."

Yes, I was. I wrestled briefly to get my hands between us, then past my rucked up skirt to unfasten his trousers. It seemed that in the weeks since the war ended, I didn't feel complete unless my son was inside me. Even with my husband wandering the halls a wraith, Draco and I remained lovers.

In his bed, my bed, behind the many warded doors of our great home we fucked and frolicked. There, in the garden – in the half sun half shade beneath the patio – he tore my bodice and explored me as if it were the first time again. We awkwardly shed my knickers and shifted so that I straddled his lap.

A gardenia blossom brushed my ear, unleashed its scent powerfully between us. I gasped and clutched Draco close as he slid inside me. "Oh, yes," I hissed. His cock filled the void – the void my dead sister left, the void of my absent/present husband coupled with the stigma of surviving as wife and mother to exonerated Death Eaters. Fucking my son helped me forget I was the witch who lied to Voldemort, the witch who betrayed one cause and shirked another, the witch who whored herself to darkness to see the light of day.

The sandy soil under my knees sent pinpricks of pain up my legs as I rode him hard. Knowing the burn of our joining and the jolt of his hardness against my cervix, I was in a bliss of pain. The burn flared quickly and Draco's rough grip on my hips bruised.

I wanted to scream when I came, but I settled for wrenching his ear to my mouth. I whimpered to him unashamed of my abandon. "That's so good, my dragon. That's it. Make me forget. Draco, give me your teeth!"

Obedient as ever, he bit down on the tender place beneath my ear, growling to me the while. He drew a little blood. I came, gasping, "Perfect, son!" Then, so swiftly my breath was taken, he flipped me so my knees and palms suffered the unforgiving ground's sting. Oh, and he could be violently punishing when he was close to his edge... The small of my back ached and my cunt blistered deliciously under his battery.

I lost my balance and folded to an elbow, scraped it through my dress sleeve and bumped my nose on a stone I'd unearthed. He gripped me so hard when he came - groaning - that I thought he cracked my ribs.

I _needed_ the pain so I could recall having a soul…

And I sometimes let the need eat me up, let thought and regret cloak pleasure. It was a mistake Draco could sense doubtless before any other lover ever could. When it happened – when I cried, panicked and gouged his forearms, begged him to fuck me harder, to hurt me, bleed me, bite me, tear me open, make me come apart… He kissed me sweetly.

He slowed or stopped altogether, made me look at his face, into his eyes. "Forget," he would whisper. "Just let it go, mother. It's over. We're alive. We're together. We did what was right."

_We did what was right. _Only after those words could I make love to him properly, be a human again. It was a reciprocal relationship.

My son was not without his own demons. He'd confided he often heard Albus Dumbledore's invitation to the light when he closed his eyes to sleep at night; that he saw the old wizard's forgiving eyes, his reaching hand; that he felt the flat choke of Severus' arm pressing him into invisible walls, begging him to trust, to reason.

Then it was my turn to soothe him, to be mother and not lover. I rocked and cradled him. I could _never_ confess to him the ghost touch of Severus that _I _felt, or the heat from invisible eyes burning into my flesh.

We were all haunted. No doubt Lucius' phantoms were the worst. Many a night I woke in a sharp panic, hearing my husband's screams from down the long corridor. And I remained a dutiful wife – disengaging from my son's arms to comfort my son's father. I didn't love Lucius, but I sympathized as one would with a dying animal, its ignorance making the death more frightening.

I climbed into his bed and held him and stroked his hair and whispered to him. He clutched me as if he feared I would apparate away and sobbed apologies over and over. I doubted Lucius would ever feel absolved…and perhaps that was appropriate.

Severus was absolved – unquestionably. I was absolved by a lie. Draco was absolved by inaction. And in my own sleepless nights, I decided that Bella was absolved by death.

The only thing that could have saved my sister from herself, from her evil, was death. That great equalizer. That inarguable right.

The one thing that could defeat my sister. Death.

Staring into night's black, inches away (just) from my son's warmth, I would think of Bella; of her untamed curls and untamed spirit, her vicious wrath and equally vicious loyalty, her thin frame and thick skull. I remembered her insane cackle and shivered, remembered her abandoned joyous laughter and nearly smiled.

I can only ever _nearly_ smile when I think of Bella. Her strength and her fragility astounded me. Her deep loves and hatreds overwhelmed me. I envied her power. I loved her as a sister. I hated her for becoming what she was.

But Merlin, help me; she gave me strength. She taught me to fight. She moved through storms I could hardly imagine any other witch or wizard navigating.

Hell, Belle... You _made_ those storms.

**AN:** Now. Call your sister and tell her you love her.


End file.
